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Francis wasn’t due home for another few weeks, but even just knowing he’d be home soon was enough to have the house feel like it was buzzing. Malcolm and Reese in particular had been overflowing with their excitement, and when you read overflowing Malcolm meant it literally. Pranks, fights, more pranks- and more fights. It had been a back and forth the entire week since Hal had spilled the beans on booking a flight to bring him back home for the weekend! Their mom couldn’t even find it in her to be annoyed at her plan being exposed when she saw how excited the three boys were to have the oldest coming home- even if she knew they’d probably find something to get in trouble with.
They always did when he came home, they had to make the most of their time with Francis and that always meant causing chaos one way or another.
But that left Malcolm where he was now- home alone with both his brothers on a Saturday, both his mom and dad working overtime shifts to cover the costs of Francis’ flights. They’d promised to be good and not break anything otherwise Francis' trip home might get cancelled, and if that happened then neither Malcolm or Reese would forgive themselves. Of course that didn’t stop them from messing with each other still- but they were being subtle about it to fly under their moms radar as best as possible, and so far she was either willing to ignore it, or they were successful!
Earlier that morning Reese had filled Malcolm's socks with mayonnaise, which had been absolutely disgusting, so after their mom had left for work Malcolm set out to get him back. One thing led to another, and after some rotting sandwiches, paint, and more than one close call with breaking different house hold items (and hiding the one that did break in the hopes their mom would never notice it missing) here Malcolm was now, setting up a trap that would get Reese for good.
It was hardly the first catapult he’d ever built, but he had perfected its accuracy. The second that Reese opened the bathroom door he’d be pelted with approximately two weeks worth of stinky, biohazard level socks. He only stayed long enough to see Reese face while being assaulted as they all flung forward at once, before taking off down the hallway at top speed.
“MALCOLM! I’m going to kill you.”
Personally Malcolm thought it was worth it.
He ran around one side of the couch Dewey was watching some cartoon on just in time for Reese to make it to the living room as well. They were in a stand off of sorts- if Reese moved to go around one way, Malcolm would move the same distance, keeping the couch between them at all times. It worked for a few laps at least- till Reese got tired of the circling and jumped on the couch.
In three steps Reese hopped onto the couch, over Dewey (who was only phased by his bowl of chips being kicked out of his lap, before he continued to eat them off the floor instead), and launching himself forward off the arm of the couch.
Malcolm, as any sane person would do in his position, turned and hauled ass into the kitchen, only just managing to get out of reach when Reese landed. He ran around the table, circling it the same to try to keep it between him and Reese.
“Quit running away you shitface- I’m gonna get you back no matter what so just let me catch you now.”
Oh yeah, cause that was so convincing. “Oh yeah? What do you even want to do to me.” Knowing might be a little bit better, Malcolm told himself. Even if it wouldn’t change anything. He didn’t regret it, because he could replay the sight of Reese getting possibly moldy socks in his mouth for weeks after this.
Reese paused for a second, looking like even he didn’t know what he was going to do. Malcolm tried to use it to his advantage to see if he could run to their bedroom, but Reese started back around the table after him grinning like an evil villain out of one of his comics.
“First im going to pummel you, and when I get bored of that I’ll hang you outside on the fence by your underwear- or maybe swirly you till you call uncle. Or-”
Both boys looked to the living room as they heard a car pull into the driveway.
Mom was home.
Reese got back to his senses just a few seconds before Malcolm did, which was just enough time for him to surprise Malcolm by dashing around the table. Malcolm yelped, and in his panic dropped down to crawl under the table away from where Reese was quickly coming up on him, a move that usually bought him just enough time to run back to the living room. Usually that is. But not today.
Reese grabbed onto his ankle and began to pull Malcolm out from under the table kicking and clinging onto different chairs in desperation to make his escape. “Mom’s home you idiot! You’re going to get us both in trouble if you-”
Reese gave a solid punch to his stomach, which was enough of a shock for Malcolm to drop his hold on the chair and curl his arms around himself instead. Reese had him out from under the table in seconds, sitting on his legs and grinning down at him.
“Just cause she’s home doesn’t mean I can’t still get you back dumbass,” Reese said, and Malcolm felt his stomach in all its bruised glory drop.
Malcolm caught Reese’s hands just in time, and it started a war Malcolm knew he had no chance of winning. He still had to at least try in the hopes of holding out long enough for their mom to get in and put a stop to Reese before he got started.
Seconds were ticking by like whole centuries were passing, arms shaking while he tried to hold Reese hands out, and Reese slowly got closer and closer. He had the advantage, sitting on top of Malcolm like this. It was easier for him to lean over and keep pushing Malcolm's arms down than it was for him to push Reese up and off of him, even if Malcolm was as strong as Reese was. If he could just last a little bit longer, he told himself, just a few more seconds and Mom would be coming inside from the car and she’d tell them to get off the floor and quit wrestling or they’d be grounded and have their noses pressed to a wall till dinner.
Just a little longer.
His arms gave back another inch, and his elbows were touching the ground now.
Just a few more seconds-
Reese laughed above him when Malcolm’s arms shook, and with a sharp tug Malcolm’s hands went from holding Reese arms up to being shoved suddenly above his head. It wasn’t a move he’d been expecting, and not one he was anywhere near strong enough to prevent with the sudden change in direction.
Just as quickly Reese let go of both of Malcolm’s hands and dashed them back down. Before he could even get a protest out, Reese had one hand squeezing his hip while the other landed in Malcom’s armpit before he could slam his arms back down to block him off.
“No! Reese thats-” Malcolm slammed his head back as his brother’s hands began to move. He meant to say that it wasn’t fair, but the only other thing that came out of his mouth was a piercing scream.
It was basically torture, he thinks he might had preferred being punched to the absolute horror that was Reese when he remembered how he used to get back at Malcolm when they were younger, when Malcolm ‘didn’t know how to take a punch without crying.’
Within seconds Malcolm was a writhing mess on the floor, not knowing if he wanted to try to push the hands off him, or focus just on tucking his arms as tight around him as he could to block off anywhere else from being targeted. He didn’t get much of a choice with his body moving faster than his brain could control his limbs, making him switch between both options frantically. By the time their mom had made it inside he was giggling frantically under the assault.
“Awww, whats wrong Malcolm? Can’t handle just a bit of tickling? I thought you were so big and tough running away from me like that- well it looks like you aren’t anymore now are you?” Reese teased, leaning down and grinning right over Malcolm’s face so he could see even through squinting. He reached up to push the others face away, only for the hand under his armpit to dig in harder, making him yelp again before squirming twice as hard.
“Can’t even do anything to fight back against me. Just ohhhh~ so helpless. Can’t think of how to escape with that big brain of yours, can you?”
In the back of his mind Malcolm registered the front door opening and closing, but couldn’t focus on it for more than a second before the tickling had taken back all of his primary senses. The hand on his hip managed to worm under his shirt and was spider crawling up his side heading to his ribs, undeterred by Malcolm clinging onto his brother's wrist. He was meant to be pushing the hand away but all the strength was very quickly leaving him, making it 10 times harder to do anything except cling desperately.
Bags were set on the kitchen table and when Malcolm opened his eyes his mom’s shoes were just a foot or two from his face.
“M-Mahaham!” Malcolm managed to squeak out.
“Hi mom!” Reese followed him up with, turning and grinning up at her as if Malcolm wasn’t even there. “How was work today?”
She wasn’t phased by the scene, if anything it was probably better than what she normally would have walked in on them getting up to, but her casual response didn't instill any confidence in Malcolm that she’d be offering him any help. “It went as usual, customers are idiots, and all the people I work with are hopeless clones who can’t do a single thing independently. I picked up stuff to make lasagna for dinner though, that sound alright?”
“Yay! Lasagna!” Dewey cheered from the living room.
“Lasagna sounds great mom! Did you get-” Reese moved the hand out of his armpit to match the hand that made it to his ribs, both locking in on one side at the same time. Malcolm heard his voice crack on a scream before falling into another wave of humiliating giggles- like he was some type of girl.
“Yes I got garlic bread- it was on sale. Can you believe they would just throw out frozen bread, as if it actually goes bad? What's wrong with some people.”
“Yeah that’s crazy mom. Can you believe it Malcolm?”
Malcolm went red at the attention being brought on him (as if it wasn’t already by him wiggling and laughing on the floor with Reese on top of him). It wasn’t fair, Reese always knew how to get to him in the worst ways. Asking him questions when he knew Malcolm wouldn’t be able to answer without making a fool of himself being one of the top ways that had never failed yet! Not to mention how humiliating it was being tickled to death by your older brother when over the age of 8.
“I said-” Reese dug in extra deep between his ribs with each word, making him kick out and lean up before flopping back down onto the tile like a fish out of water. “Isn’t it crazy, Malcolm?”
“YeahAHaha! Yes! Yehehes I saihaid yehes RehEHESE!”
“I’m so glad you agree. Aren’t you glad he agrees mom?”
Malcolm can’t see their mom from where she's walked away to start putting groceries away and prepping for dinner, but as soon as he hears her reply he knows he's totally screwed. “Yes yes, now don’t kill your brother you hear me Reese? If he wets himself you're cleaning it up until the house doesn’t smell like pee anymore- And you're going to be doing the extra laundry from it.”
He has all of two seconds to wallow in how she abandoned him to this fate, and to process the embarrassment that she might actually let Reese tickle him till he pisses himself, before Reese is grinning back down at him with pure evil in his eyes. “Of course not! Thanks Mom.”
Reese sits up and stops tickling him, which Malcolm finds strange enough but can’t risk not taking advantage of his chance to try to get away now that Reese has been given permission to go all out by their mom. By the time he’s got one arm behind him to try to leverage Reese out of his lap and push him off Reese is already jamming one hand into his neck and another into the soft part of his side.
“AH-” Malcolm punches out before being sent into a mix of giggling and screaming. One of his hands is clinging to each of Reese's wrists now trying to pry the hands off, but he doesn’t have any strength left to put behind it. The only thing left to do, though he knows he’s just trapping himself once again, is to flop backwards to try to get any amount away.
He can’t tell which is worse- his sides are much more ticklish, but at least that's a standard place. He’s used to his sides and ribs or stomach even being an easy place for his brothers to attack, it was used normally enough when Francis was still home to get any of the younger of them to drop what they were holding or trying to keep from him whether it be a snack, the remote, or some toy. Reese had picked up the habit when Francis had been sent away, as the new ‘oldest brother in the house’ he said it was his duty to carry it on. Malcolm had done it back to him once since Francis had left, and he thought the revenge would have been better to take if he’d punched Reese instead. Reese had forgotten about the ball he was holding entirely, and that time Malcolm did nearly piss himself. If Mom hadn’t intervened he might not have been able to convince Reese to let up before it got that bad.
His neck was entirely different though. It wasn’t as easy of a place to get in any meaningful way really, most of the time the threat of it got to him more than the actual tickling did- except for when it was their dad and he’d rub his stubbly beard all over his neck when they were all little. Reese didn't have any type of stubble, and Malcolm didn't think he’d put his face anywhere near that close to Malcolms, but for some reason the wiggling fingers pinched between his jaw and shoulder was driving him more insane than anything else.
“So how long till you cave Mal? I’ll be generous this time around-” Reese taunted, finally moving the hand from under his neck after what felt like eons, but really was probably only 30 or so seconds. His hand instead went to start poking around his ribs in random spots, getting around any guarding that Malcom tried to put up. “You can call Uncle and I might let you up- or you can agree to do my chores for the next week. Those or your options or I’ll just keep going till dinner’s done or you piss yourself- whichever comes first. You heard mom, she wont stop me unless it gets that far.”
Malcolm wanted to believe that their mom wouldn’t really let Reese go that far with it, but he was on tile which would be easier to clean, so he couldn’t be 100% sure. In an instant he knew he’d probably need to call uncle, but he’d never hear the end of it if it did. It was the ultimate sign of weakness in this family- He remembered all the times of being bent into pretzel like shapes and being told it would only end if he called uncle, only to be tormented worse for giving in. What else would Reese have in store if he did?
The oven beeped, and their mom put the lasagna in. Could he really handle this for almost half an hour more?
Reese hand dug back under his shirt, fingers slotting between his ribs and one into the bone of his hip.
His answer was found quickly after that. No- there was no way he could handle this for another half an hour he was barely lasting five minutes and already felt like his brain was melting.
“REhehese! Stahp it- I dohon’t- no!”
Reese pulled his shirt up, keeping the hand squeezing his hip in a vice. No matter how much Malcolm tried to pull his shirt back down, it wouldn’t work. Reese just kept pulling it back up till he huffed and pinned Malcolm's hand under his knee instead.
“You’re making this so much more difficult than it needs to be Malcolm- you know your options.”
“Mahaham! Stop hihim!” Malcolm turned his head as best he could to get a glimpse of her, leaned against the counter and watching with a smile on her face.
Oh he was so screwed.
“No, don’t ask me for help Malcolm. Whatever you did to bring this out of Reese was your own doing- just be lucky to get it all done before your dad gets home in a few minutes, or you’ll be fighting off the tickle monsters hunger for the rest of the night too. I think I’ll just sit back and enjoy watching my little boys play nice with each other for once without someone getting punched.”
If Dad saw he’d be so insufferable the whole night! Malcolm would have to hide in his room just to avoid being seen- and even then if his dad really wanted to Malcolm would just be trapped in one place waiting to be got. At least then Dewey and Reese would also be getting turned on- but was it really worth them all suffering for it.
“I dihidn’t do Anihythihing! You- No!”
This was so unfair, he couldn't get more than a few words out before Reese would dig in somewhere and he’d be rendered entirely useless at anything.
“Yeah- you brought this on yourself Mal. You’ve got three seconds to make your decision before I make it for you.” Reese said, counting loudly before Malcolm could say anything back.
“One! Two!”
“Wait! I’ll say-”
Reese rushed before Malcolm could finish his sentence, already leaning down and taking a big breath of air. “Three! Too late”
Reese blew a huge raspberry on Malcolm's stomach, able to be heard loud and clear across the whole house, at least until Malcolm screamed, fading into a hysterical set of giggling. His one free hand found its way into Reese’s hair, pulling and pushing every way trying to knock his brother off. He wasn’t having any success of course, but it was all he could really do.
The vibrations sent tingles and waves of torture across every inch of him, he couldn’t do anything but flail and babble hoping he was saying anything that made an ounce of sense to get his brother to stop.
He screamed again when Reese managed another big breath, landing a second raspberry onto his side.
Malcolm kicked out and did his best to roll away from Reese, grabbing onto the table to try to pull himself away as far as he could. His entire brain had shut off and gone into panic mode- just focused on getting away from the overwhelming feeling of everywhere being tickled all at once. Reese wedged one hand under his arm and Malcolm’s grip on the table left just as quickly as a third raspberry where his side turned into his back.
“MaHAHAMEHehE!”
Malcolm didn’t even register any of the words that came out of his mouth past that, he could have said uncle a thousand times, begged, or started reciting every prime number. All he knew what that everything was too much and he was going to explode if it went on for another second.
Lois must have realized that Malcolm was reaching his limit, and with one snap of her fingers and a raise of her eyebrow Reese was pulling off of him with a shit eating satisfied grin. “Can’t believe you had to call ‘Mommy’ to help you, you're such a loser.”
Malcolm curled into a ball, breathing heavily and still giggling trying to recover. He tried to glare up at him, but didn’t think it landed very well.
Luckily Mom had his back, and whacked Reese on the back of the head.
“Go clean up while your brother learns how to breathe again. Your father should be-”
And just like that the door opened to the living room, and dad was home. If Malcolm could move any of his limbs he’d probably try to at least make it to a chair, but instead he stayed on the floor.
“Hal, there you are honey. Lasagna is in the oven now, shouldn’t be too much longer.”
After saying hello to Dewey, Dad came in. He didn’t notice Malcolm till after kissing Mom.
“Oh what are you doing on the floor son? Did Reese beat you again, Reese I already told you you cant make him invincible by repetition-”
“I didn’t beat him dad, at least not that way. I’m not that stupid anymore you can only turn invincible through a bug bite like spiderman. He got a visit from someone else-”
If Malcolm had the energy in him to do it he’d have screamed, or sat up and punched Reese in the gut to make him stop. But, he still hadn’t fully got the feeling back in his limbs, and sitting up felt like an impossible task all on its own.
“Oh? Who was here kiddo?”
“The tickle monster made his return.”
Malcolm curled harder into a ball and buried his face in his hands.
Oh they were all so screwed.