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You were in hell.
Normally, being pressed up against the wall of the Hail Mary, surrounded by a multitude of pillows and blankets was part of your bedtime routine. Rocky needed to watch you sleep, after all.
Even feeling Ryland snuggled up behind you was par for the course. Having only one other human on board meant you both eventually got comfortable around each other, and took the psychologically necessary cuddles where you could. Ryland was good company anyway, and he gave great hugs - you were both quite content with the situation. On a regular evening, this would not be too bad...suicide mission aside, of course.
But right now, Grace is being an absolute bastard.
It seems he's not going to sleep just yet, and has been absently tracing patterns on your torso to pass the time. It would be harmless, were it not for the fact it really tickles. His hand does little circles where it's resting against you, on the part of your back where it blends into your sides. Sometimes he switches directions, completely oblivious to the way it makes your breath catch with the giggle you keep shoving down. It's maddening.
You try to curl deeper into the sea of blankets and close your eyes.
And then he starts tracing lines, instead. From the top of your side down to your hip. You can't help it - you let out a small huff, and grab his wrist.
Ryland lets out a low chuckle next to your ear.
"oh. I was wondering why your breathing had gone all funny."
You pull the blanket up to cover your face a bit. Rocky laughs at that, in his own melodic way. He'd probably picked up on your breathing way before Ryland did. You're kind of grateful he didn't point it out.
"Really? just from this?" Previously established bastard repeats his movements, and you repeat your shove at his hands.
"Grahace-"
There's a pause. He's plotting.
"Oh man, I'm sorry. I mean, I would stop, but I'm trying to get comfy." He makes a point of snuggling in further, so you're trapped between him and the wall when he starts tracing along your back again.
"Don't-"
"Don't stop? Okay, well, if you insist-"
"I'm going to kill you,"
"Your back is ticklish, you're not doing anything, you big softie."
"Is ticklish back unusual for humans, question?" Correction: there are two bastards on the ship.
"Oh yea, I don't think mine is. I mean, even if it is, it's not this bad." Ryland's got you shaking, clutching onto the blankets for dear life and hoping they muffle the various squeaks caused by his fingers swiping over your shoulder blades. It's so gentle, and it's hard to focus on anything else.
"Plehease-" You manage to get out, coherency rapidly beginning to elude you. To your horror, you realise it's because the tickling is somehow making you sleepier.
Ryland picks up on the slight slurring in your voice, and genuinely coos. The noise on its own makes heat rush to your ears. He presses on, continuing his conversation with Rocky like it's nothing. "...And it definitely doesn't make me want a nap."
His fingers ghost over your tummy, and you flop around uselessly against the wall. The longer he continues, the more you laugh, and the harder it gets to form anything resembling a sentence. Your muscles feel weak, jellified by the fatigue and the giggling. Despite yourself, you move towards bastard number one, turning to hide your face in his shoulder.
"This is actually making you sleepy, isn't it?"
"Noho-Ryland!"
"Oh, we're using first names, now? Ooh, this must be bad." His free hand strokes your hair in mock-comfort.
You're too far gone to insult him in response, and instead seek solace by gripping onto his shirt. He wraps both arms around you, two hands making mirrored patterns on your back.
"It's a shame you can't tell when people blush, Rocky, because I've never seen someone this red."
Rocky contemplates this, and decides further enquiries are needed. "Where else is unusual to be ticklish?"
"...I've heard some people have ticklish hands," Grace states conversationally, and you feel him laugh at your embarrassed groan. He nods towards you. "I'm guessing this one does, too."
"...Too, question?"
"Uh- well, um- I meant-"
It's not too hard to grab onto his wrist from your current position. You might be half-asleep, but you know an opportunity when you see one.
"Hey, waitwaitwait-" He's already laughing. You haven't even touched him yet.
"Thanks, Rocky." You finally remember how to speak, and bend Grace's wrist back to trace over his palm. He would fold like a cheap lawn chair if you weren't in the way - he curls backwards, immediately dissolving into squeals and pleas for mercy.
"Nononono- nohoho!"
Ok, maybe this wasn't quite hell after all.