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It had been a month since Bill and Steve had been sent to the Theraprism. Steve had actually tried his best to stay optimistic and had found joy in some of the more creative shifts – arts and crafts specifically was his favorite. Bill, on the other hand, had predictably been either destroying everything in his wake and screaming bloody murder as he was dragged off to the Wellness Void, or pouting in a corner. Today, Steve found as he entered their shared cell after a shift of group therapy, he was doing the second, his knees pressed to his chest and his back pressed against the wall. “Hey, Bill.” He greeted as he stepped over and plopped down next to him. “I hate this place.” He grumbled, eye on the floor.
“Aw, c’mon, Bill. It’s not that bad once you get used to it!” Steve offered, setting a hand on his shoulder.
Bill growled at him, which earned a poke to the side. He swatted his hand away, shooting him a glare. That suddenly gave Steve an idea. His hand returned to Bill’s side, giving him lighter pokes near his ribs.
“Bill, as your older brother, it’s my obligation to cheer you up.” He was using that voice he used when he was up to something, Bill squinted at him suspiciously, but kept getting distracted by the incessant poking. “And I didn’t want to do this–” He absolutely did. “–but you leave me no other choice.” Bill raised an eyebrow. “Wha–” He yelped when Steve raked his nails down from his ribs to his hip. It clicked in the younger’s head. “AhahAIEHE NOHOHO STEHEHEHEVE!!” He squeezed his sides rapidly, pinning him back into the corner.
“Sorry, Bill. I’m not enjoying this any more than you.” Bill glanced up and whined, that lying bastard was grinning ear to ear. “I HAHAHATE YOUHUHU!!” Steve rolled his eye. “Suuuure.” He hummed, following him as he slid down onto the ground, writhing like a dying fish. He pushed weakly at his arm, legs flailing and kicking at the air. His fingers dug into the spots between his ribs, fingers vibrating into the flesh. Bill’s back arched, a high-pitched screech lurching from his throat.
“NONONAHAHAHA! I- hic- I CAHAHAHAN’T–!!” “You’re so dramatic, Billy. You caaaaan’t? You caaaaaaaaaan’t??” Steve cooed. Bill’s face went even brighter red, and he weakly rolled over to hide it in the floor. This was successful, but unfortunately for Bill, it only exposed his worst spot. He clawed down his spine, watching him spasm. “AAAAAHAHAHA- EEHIEAHA STAHAHAHAHAP!! NOT THEHEHEHERE!!” He curled up into a cackling ball, too tired to fight back anymore.
Steve eventually lightened up, tracing triangles on the center of his back. He leaned over, smiling down at him. “Well? Cheered up yet?” Bill hesitated for a good couple moments, then slowly nodded, turning his head further away into the floor. Steve chuckled, running his hand through Bill’s black-and-gold hair. He relaxed at the feeling, grumbling something unintelligible under his breath.
“...I s-still hahate this place, thouhugh.”
“That’s fair.”