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Dio wants to bother Jonathan. Just for a little bit. He’s done it before (ten minutes ago, to be exact) with pinching, shoving, and hair pulling, but now he’s looking for something new to add to his arsenal. They’re both sharing a couch in the library, reading their respective books. Well, at least Jonathan is. He’s engrossed in some archeological textbook while Dio had been perusing some random text, probably about law. He can’t remember now that he’s spent a good few minutes squinting at his brother from over the top of his book. Jonathan’s completely oblivious as Dio scans him from head to toe, searching for something he could tug or poke at to make a nuisance of himself.
His gaze lands on Jonathan's soft stomach, moving steadily with his deep breaths. That thing could definitely use some poking, he thinks. Then Dio remembers that poking stomachs usually results in laughter. He hasn’t had much experience with the act of tickling. From what he’s seen, it looks very annoying. But was Jonathan ticklish? Of course he is. Look at him! Dio reasons with himself. Jonathan was slightly chubby around the waist, practically begging for pinching and prodding. He was also one to laugh easily, so forcing laughter out of him shouldn’t be too difficult. It’s perfect, Dio decides.
He shuts his book and tosses it over his shoulder, getting up and standing in front of Jonathan. “Hey.” Dio slaps his brother's book out of his hands. “Hey.” Jonathan sighs patiently as his textbook flops to the floor.
“What is it, Dio?”
“I want to try something. Close your eyes.” He waits until Jonathan obeys, then clambers onto his lap, straddling his thighs.
Jonathan peers at his brother through half-open eyelids. “What are you—“
“No peeking!” Dio slaps a hand over the top of Jonathan’s face, smirking at his quiet “ow”. He uses his other hand to poke at Jonathan’s tummy once, satisfied with the resulting flinch. Removing his other hand from Jonathan’s eyes (and wincing at the reddening mark his hand left on his face), he scratches lightly at the sides of his round stomach. Jonathan immediately squirms and lets out breathy giggles, opening his eyes in confusion.
“Diohoho, come ohon, I was readihihihing!”
“I don’t care.” Strangely enough, Jonathan is not laughing as hard as Dio thought he would. He was expecting him to double over, perhaps even cry a little. Maybe he just needs to switch to a different spot. He moves his hands upwards to scritch under Jonathan’s arms. His laughter changes in pitch, but not in intensity. Frustrated, Dio switches to dancing his fingers around Jonathan’s collarbones and neck, tickling under his chin.
He watches in disappointment as Jonathan’s giggling dies down. “Are you really not that ticklish?” He asks incredulously, groaning when Jonathan shakes his head. Then he notices Jonathan gripping the cushions of the couch, purposefully keeping his arms out of the way. “You’re enjoying this?”
“Of course!” Jonathan laughs. ”Is this not fun for you?”
Dio pouts and crosses his arms. “No.”
“Well then, I can fix that.”
Dio looks up when he hears the teasing lilt in Jonathan’s voice, and panic starts to blossom in his gut. “There’s no need.” He goes to stand up but finds he’s stuck in place, Jonathan’s strong hands around his hips preventing his retreat.
“Don’t be silly, Dio. It’s the least I can do after you’ve shown me such a good time!”
Dio blinks and suddenly he’s pinned to the couch, flat on his back. Squirming, he protests, “Didn’t you say you were reading that book? I bet it was so interesting and I think you should get back to it.” His babbling becomes more frantic as his arms are raised just above his head, held fast by a single hand. “Okahay, wait, I wohon’t bother you again, I promihihise.” Dio flushes slightly at the nervous giggles interrupting his words. How embarrassing. He doesn’t even know if he’s ticklish and is already laughing like a child.
“Hmm, too late for that, brother. This is far more interesting than that silly book.” Jonathan holds up a wiggling finger in front of Dio’s face, letting him take a good look, then ever so slowly lowers it towards the hollow of Dio’s armpit.
“Wahahait, JoJo, c’mohohon,” Dio pleads, tugging at his arms. “Nohohoho, plea—“ He cuts off his own begging with a shriek once Jonathan makes contact. Turns out he is ticklish. Devastatingly so. Dio hides his face in the crook of his arm, eyes screwed shut and cackling loudly. He never imagined a single finger could feel this torturous. Then Jonathan adds the remaining four fingers and his laughter goes silent. Dio can barely think straight, focusing only on his brother's digits scrabbling around under his arm. Just his luck that Jonathan happened to find such a bad spot on his first try.
By the time Jonathan pulls his fingers out again, his cheeks are aching from laughing and he’s dizzy with endorphins. He sucks in air greedily past residual giggles and blinks back tears. Being tickled feels so strange, is Dio’s first coherent thought. Almost like electricity. He longs to rub at his armpit to get rid of the tingly aftershocks, but Jonathan is still holding him tight.
“That was a pretty bad spot, huh?” Jonathan chuckles casually, as if he didn’t nearly kill Dio just now.
Exhausted, the blond can’t think of anything snarky to say. “Okahay, okay. You’ve had your fun, now let me—“
“Oh, but, Dio,” Jonathan smiles, “We can’t stop now. It’s only been two minutes!” He places his hand on Dio’s quivering stomach, curling his fingers. Dio blinks in surprise. Had it really only been two minutes? He could’ve sworn he’d been under attack for at least twenty. Jonathan’s hand vibrating into his tummy pulls him out of his thoughts.
Dio snorts before letting out a string of belly laughs, caught completely off guard. His face burns as he hears Jonathan laugh at the absurd sound.
“My, Dio, I had no idea you were so sensitive! If I knew that this is all it takes for you to stop bothering me, I would’ve done it a long time ago.”
In an attempt to respond, Dio babbles something incoherent, which only makes Jonathan laugh harder. Dio tries to curl up to protect himself, but with Jonathan sitting on his hips and grasping his wrists, he has no choice but to lay there and take it. Jonathan finally decides to show mercy for the first time that afternoon and pulls his hand away after a few moments, allowing his brother time to catch his breath.
It takes Dio a few seconds to realize he’s not being tickled anymore, laughing even after Jonathan had removed his fingers. He gazes up at the high ceiling, panting. That definitely wasn’t as bad as the first time, he determines. My stomach must not be as…. sensitive.
“So?” Jonathan asks. “Are you having fun yet?”
“Are you serious? Of course not!” Dio snaps, trying his best to swallow the dopey smile stretching across his face.
“That’s a shame. Oh, well. Guess I’ll have to try harder.” Jonathan grins, wrapping a hand around each of Dio’s wrists and pulling them down next to his shoulders.
“Oh. Oh, wait, JoJo. I changed my mind! I’m having fun now, you can stop! Jojo, pleahehehease,” Dio wails as Jonathan brings his face closer to his torso. He nuzzles Dio’s chest, sending him into a fit of boyish giggles. What a bizarre place to be ticklish, Dio thinks, howling when Jonathan uses his chin to rub along his sternum. He presses a line of kisses along Dio’s collarbone, then up to his neck.
Confusion laces Dio’s soft giggling as he hears a sharp inhale. Then he feels Jonathan’s lips on him, blowing all the air out at once against his skin. Dio cackles at the vibrating sensation, the heels of his feet digging into the cushions. “Whahahat was thahahat?” He manages.
“A raspberry.” Jonathan states matter-of-factly, then raises an eyebrow. “What, you’ve never gotten one before?” When Dio shakes his head, he sighs dramatically. “I suppose I’ll give you another, then.”
“JoJo, dohohohon’t!”
Jonathan can barely stop grinning enough to purse his lips, but he pulls through, planting another wet raspberry on the side of Dio’s neck. He pulls away, chuckling at the squeal the blond lets out. With his vision blurred by tears, Dio can’t make out the curious look Jonathan gives his ear, specifically the one with three moles. Barely audible above Dio’s wheezing, Jonathan mutters, “I wonder…”
Dio doesn’t have the energy to protest as Jonathan leans down again. He feels the warmth of the other boy’s body pressed against his and relaxes slightly.
Then he feels Jonathan’s teeth graze against the moles on his ear and shrieks, tensing up again. His laughter ranges from giggling to full-blown guffaws, and the staggered intake of oxygen makes him feel giddy. Tugging against Jonathan’s tight grip, he manages to free a hand and uses it to try and shove his captor away. Having laughed away all his strength, his hand instead slaps against Jonathan’s shoulder weakly.
“Oh, look at that,” Jonathan whispers, his voice extra breathy next to the shell of Dio’s ear. “Another bad spot.”
Just like when his armpit was under fire, Dio can barely comprehend anything besides the tingly sensations on his skin. His legs slam into the couch cushions as he titters and kicks violently. With his head turned to the side, he can feel a bit of drool drip out of his mouth and onto the cushion. Only when his hand goes limp does Jonathan pull away for the last time, satisfied. He lets go of Dio’s other wrist and climbs off of his waist, returning to his initial position on the couch. Dio immediately curls up, still giggling, and rubs at his ear. He’s unable to see the way Jonathan tilts his head, looking at his disheveled hair and rosy, flushed skin with a soft smile.
“How was that? Enjoyable, I hope?” Jonathan places a comforting hand on Dio’s knee as the other boy wipes at his eyes and mouth.
Dio turns to him, a tickle-induced smile still playing at his lips. He’s about to say “no” once again, but stops himself. Partly because he recalls what happened last time, and partly because he can’t remember the last time he laughed so hard. Cheeks aching, he mutters honestly, “Yes…” Jonathan’s fingers squeeze the cluster of nerves behind his kneecap and he yelps, electricity arcing up his leg.
“Sorry? I couldn’t quite catch that.”
Dio doesn’t have to look at Jonathan to see his teasing grin; he can hear it in his voice just fine. “I said yes, dammit!” He yells, yanking his knee out of Jonathan’s hold. “I hate you.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“…I don’t.”
Leaning over, Jonathan retrieves his archeology book from the floor and picks up where he left off as Dio flops over and rests his head in his lap. He traces nonsensical shapes on Jonathan’s kneecap, feeling the other boy’s fingers thread through his hair soothingly, scratching at his scalp.
This will definitely happen again, Dio thinks to himself. Right? He finds himself longing for Jonathan’s hands all over him for a second time, despite his constant begging for him to stop. The rush of endorphins, the feeling of someone pressed up against him (especially when that someone is his brother), the giddiness after it was all over… Jonathan was right— being tickled was fun. Ugh.
But his indignation at Jonathan’s silent victory isn’t enough to overshadow his desire to be teased again. After a moment’s hesitation, he grabs Jonathan’s wrist and moves it just a smidge downwards until he feels fingernails on the back of his neck. Jonathan chuckles, not looking up from his textbook, and starts his fingers up again. Dio grasps the cushion underneath him as he squirms and giggles freely. They stay like that for the remainder of the afternoon, Dio twitching underneath Jonathan’s wiggling fingers. If this is the result of being a nuisance, he’ll have to make sure he bothers Jonathan twice as much tomorrow.