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Ben came back from patrol, practically dead on his feet from exhaustion. He dragged himself toward the dorms, eyes drooping, his fatigue obvious even though he wore a mask. He still had cuts and scrapes to clean and wrap, which meant he couldn’t go to bed yet… well, maybe he could wait till morning… he was exhausted… he could hardly keep his eyes open, and his knees felt like they’d give at any moment. Yeah, maybe he should wait till morning to clean up his wounds.
He nears the dorms…
And then he trips over his own to feet.
He braces for the fall, only to be caught by two very strong arms.
He looks up to see Agent Venom.
“Long night?” The black and white clad spider asks, and Ben merely nods as he’s pulled to his feet.
And then his knees decide to buckle.
And he falls into Venom, who holds him up with ease.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be walking.” Agent Venom says, the symbiote retreating into its host, leaving Flash’s face visible.
Flash lifts Ben over his shoulder, and Ben can’t even find it in him to argue, he’s so tired, and he doesn’t really have the energy to walk anymore. Flash sets Ben down on his bunk, beginning to check the other for wounds, finding small cuts and scrapes that he cleans as he inspects Ben’s back, arms, and legs for injuries, both seen and unseen. Ben leans on Flash throughout the process, he almost nods off with his head resting Flash’s shoulder, but the blonde’s hand grazes a sensitive spot on the side of Ben’s ribs, causing the brunette to inhale sharply because of the strange sensation that runs through his side. It didn’t hurt, it just felt… strange. He couldn’t describe it.
The blonde grinned, hand brushing the same sensitive spot again and again, making Ben squirm as he involuntarily dissolves into a fit of breathy giggles. Ben tries to keep the blondes hands away, but the other continues the strange assault until Ben is laughing so hard he struggles to breathe properly.
Flash sits to the side of Ben, obviously amused, watching Ben desperately try to catch his breath.
“Wha-what was that?” Ben squeaks through gasps.
“You’re ticklish.” Flash states, still amused, a hand sliding across Ben’s sensitive ribs, eliciting more involuntary laughter.
Flash did it once more before bidding him good night.
And Ben settled into his bed, wrapping his blanket tight around his body as he catches his breath.
What did he mean by ‘ticklish’?
The End