Chapter Text
"I had a really nice time tonight," the woman said softly. What was her name again? Ellie? Emily? Something like that... She was batting her eyelashes, clearly wanting this to go somewhere.
But this was the end of the night for... this woman. Unfortunately for her, she was just a means to an end.
See, a successful TV star like Vincent Whittman not having settled down at this point in life was strange, enough to get people's eyebrows raised. What no one knew was that he was settled down, but with a man instead of a woman.
Of course with that being blatantly illegal, he had to go to certain lengths to prevent that from being found out. One of those lengths was to take various women on dates to business events so he could be seen as 'on the market' and 'shopping around' rather than 'suspiciously single'.
This was just the easiest woman to take out to this socially mandatory event. It was a party for everyone at the TV station he worked at, one that encouraged everyone to bring their wives and husbands. It would have ruined him not to show up with a woman.
She was a nice gal and all, but their relationship ended here. Her use for the night was to pick him up from his house, show up at the party with him, then after a few hours of networking she drove him back home.
Vincent wanted this to end now. Alastor was inside his house and he was much more interesting than any other human on this planet, his date included.
"It was a great party, wasn't it?" Vincent wore his crowd-pleasing grin and he chose his words carefully. "You get home safe."
She looked a bit disappointed. Too bad so sad.
"Well, I have something for you, to remember me by."
Too sentimental. But he had to keep the image of the charming bachelor.
"And what would that be?"
Before he could dodge, she darted forward and planted a kiss on his lips. His eyes widened as she rushed back to her car. "Good night, Vincent!"
Not what he expected or really wanted. But, at least she was leaving. He gave a casual wave and waited for her to drive around the corner before entering his house.
He shut the door behind him and sighed as he started to untie his tie. He nailed that party, meeting and greeting and selling himself like the expert businessman he was, but he could use some time relaxing instead of performing.
"Vincent."
A chill rushed down Vincent's spine. Alastor's voice was cold as ice. He looked around to see his partner standing in the living room, glaring with narrow eyes.
"A-Al? What's going on? Why are you mad?"
Oh, that pissed him off even more. His jaw shifted, that permanent grin looking more like a snarl every second.
Vincent dropped his loose tie to the floor and unconsciously took a step back, pinning his back against the front door.
"Um," he giggled out of pure anxiety, "should I run?" It was only half a joke.
"You are going to run to the bedroom, take off your shirt and coat, place your belt upon your chest, and lay down on your back waiting for me. If I come in there and you're not exactly where I want you, consider your punishment doubled." His voice was low but sharp as daggers. Vincent shuddered before doing exactly what was commanded of him.
He dashed to the bedroom, peeling all the clothes from his upper body with clumsy shaking fingers as he ran. He threw the clothes into the hamper and yanked his shoes off before jumping onto the mattress and bouncing from the force. He slid his belt off in one smooth motion (very accustomed to this part by now), and laid it on his chest as instructed before going still, staring at the ceiling.
His heart was racing. Alastor had never punished him like this when he was this mad. What was he even pissed about?! They both agreed he had to go to this party with a date! So it's not like he didn't know where he was or they didn't communicate. So what was he so damn angry for?
His stomach fluttered and squirmed in his belly, knowing he was about to laugh himself absolutely stupid. There was no hope he was leaving this room with his vocal cords intact.
Alastor took his sweet ass time joining him in the bedroom, and when he did his face was still contorted with anger.
What the fuck did he do?! Vincent was wracking his brain for reasons Alastor could be pissed but was coming up blank.
His partner opened the side table drawer... Oh dear God he was actually trying to kill him because he pulled out their two spiny hairbrushes.
Something zipped up his spine, some mix of fear and excitement, and he couldn't help but smile nervously, squirming lightly on the bed.
Alastor placed the hairbrushes on the mattress beside Vincent before leaning over him to start restraining his wrists with the belt. The nervousness and anticipation were already eating him alive, enough to make him sputter out a small fit of giggles before smothering them.
"Do you really think you should be laughing right now?" Alastor's voice was still sharp but a little less intense now.
"Oh, don't pretend you're not about to tickle me to death."
"So you can be perceptive when you want to be. Maybe you should use those powers of perception to figure out why on Earth I might be furious with you."
"Alastor, I love you more than the world itself, but I truly don't know," Vincent's voice was pleading as he looked up with big desperate eyes. "We both agreed for this to happen! You knew where I was, what I was doing, who I was with, when I'd get back... I'm not late, I'm not hurt, I'm not messy... What is it?!"
Wrong answer apparently. Alastor's eyes were still narrow slits burning with rage.
"Maybe a little laughter will help jog that memory of yours."
Vincent threw his head back on the pillow with a groan. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw both hairbrushes being picked up. He gasped as Alastor rested them both right above his armpits. Alarm bells were shrieking in his head and he flinched back.
"A-Al, already?!"
"What? Don't want to start off strong?"
"No! Y-You usually build up t-to that! I-I can't!"
"You can and you will. Surely my partner can handle anything, can't he?"
"I-I can handle it but maybe we s-start slow? 'Cause I don't know if I-" The moment those hairbrushes began scribbling and scrubbing at his underarms, Vincent was pretty sure he mentally blacked out for a few seconds. All his breath was stolen from him as he shrieked at those ear-piercingly high pitches he only seemed to reach when being tickled.
He managed to get one deep wheezy breath in before absolutely fucking losing his mind laughing. He kicked, he thrashed, he bounced up and down on the mattress as he wailed with hysterics.
"AAAIIIEEEE- BWAAHAHAHAHAHA! STAHAHA- EEK! IHIHIHAHAHAHA!"
It had literally been less than a minute and his stomach already ached from the force of his laughter. This poor mattress was being kicked to absolute Hell but Vincent had to get this ticklish energy out.
Alastor began leaning down, further, until his lips rested on Vincent's neck.
"N-NOHOHO! AHAHAL-!"
And he began nibbling at his neck.
Vincent's resulting laughter was... dead silent. So forceful and desperate it was inaudible. His core clenched as his diaphragm wheezed out what barely passed as laughter. The tickling was driving him absolutely nuts with its intensity. He could barely breathe and they just fucking started!
He managed another breath in before erupting into explosively loud cackling, his body thrashing this way and that. Usually he'd try not to fight back but his head and shoulders were doing their best to squeeze Alastor away from his hyper-ticklish neck. Fuck he could barely stand this; he was going to go insane!
Tears quickly began building up at the corners of his eyes. It didn't surprise him. Honestly he wouldn't be surprised if his entire body just popped like a balloon at this point; he certainly felt like he was going to explode.
Then, everything stopped. Oh, thank FUCK. Vincent gasped for air like a man drowning, his whole body trembling. Alastor leaned back on his calves with stern eyes.
"You have 15 seconds to tell me what you think I'm mad about before I start again."
WHAT.
Vincent's eyes widened.
"No no no no, Al, I-I can't, I-"
"10 seconds."
"I- Uh, I-"
Fuck Vincent couldn't think like this! There was too much pressure, his brain was too focused on what was about to happen!
"5 seconds."
"Uh, you're mad... because, I.... Um... Didn't drive myself?"
"...Is that really what you think made me mad?"
"No, but I can't think of anything else! I'm panicking!" Vincent sputtered.
"0 seconds."
Vincent could at least be thankful that the hairbrushes were targeting his ribs this time instead of his underarms. Don't get him wrong, it still tickled horribly, but more of a 9 on the scale rather than a 15.
Through loud squealy laughter Vincent tried his best to brainstorm what was going on, which, to be fair, was pretty fucking difficult when he was laughing loud enough to echo down the hall.
Think! Think! If he didn't figure this out he might be tickled so ruthlessly he'd pass out! What is he so mad about?!
"Use that pretty little head of yours, mon amour. Surely you can figure out why your life partner is not pleased with your actions tonight."
Tonight. So it was definitely related to this whole party/date thing. Maybe it was- Oh God dammit not his floating ribs!!
"NonononONONO- NOHOHOHAHA! P-PLEHEHEHEHEASE! A-AHAHAL!"
Dear God the spines of those brushes rubbing circles there should be illegal with how badly that tickled! He couldn't think! He could only laugh with everything he had!
And so he did. He laughed and laughed and laughed until his whole upper body ached. By the time his head felt like it was starting to float away, he got another break.
"20 seconds."
"Fuck," he panted heavily, lungs still struggling, "fuck fuck, okay... uh,"
"15 seconds."
It was so hard to think! His brain was running through sludge trying to keep up. Not to mention his chest which just couldn't seem to expand large enough for Vincent to get the oxygen he needed.
"10 seconds."
He was mad about the party or the date...
"Uh, th-that you didn't come with me to the party?"
"I'm the one who told you to go without me. Try again."
"Fuck!"
"5 seconds."
He stammered, mouth agape as nothing but nervous gibberish poured out. He was out of time!
"0 seconds."
Vincent flinched. "Please, Alastor! No, gimme a break, please!"
There we go. Alastor's snarl shifted to a slightly more genuine smile.
"I do adore your begging." He cooed softly.
"Yes! Yes, you do! Please, please, please, gimme a break..." He took a deep breath. "I'm dying over here, love. Please. I wanna know, I'm trying, but it's so hard to think. Please, please, Alastor, please give me a break, please!"
Alastor tapped his chin with a devious smile. "That was some very nice begging."
"Please, my love, my darling, light of my life?" Vincent batted his eyelashes with a tired smile. Whatever happened from here didn't matter because he successfully got Alastor to smile that smile. It was rare, but occasionally he was able to make Alastor smitten enough to bear the cutest little goofy shy grin he just couldn't hide. Day won. Anything else from here was significantly less important.
"I suppose I could switch to an easier spot, one that would give you more brain power to use." Alastor was eventually able to wipe the adorable little shy grin from his face to a more familiar intimidating one. Boo. "And I could forgo the use of hairbrushes as well."
"Yes, please." Vincent sighed with relief.
"BUT," Alastor said sternly, "when I'm done with the new spot you better have the correct answer for me or else we're bringing the brushes back to your underarms."
Vincent whimpered like a kicked puppy. He had to figure this out. NOW.
Alastor moved down the bed to...
Vincent snickered and plopped his head down on the pillow giggling. "Ohohoho nohohoho."
"Oh, yes, my dear. I said an easier spot, but not how much easier. Your feet are quite sensitive aren't they? Nowhere near the level of your neck or ribs, but still quite... touchy." He poked a single finger to the middle of Vincent's sole, making him squeal like a pig before lightly kicking in an unstoppable giggle fit.
Then Vincent heard something wonderful, Alastor softly giggling to himself. Thank God he seemed to be in a better mood. All the flirting and begging and laughing seemed to finally be melting some of his icy temper. Tickling him to tears always seemed to cheer him up, which, well, Vincent could say the same thing about him, so, they're even.
One hand firmly pressed his left ankle into the bedding. Vincent snorted loudly---an unusual sound from him---and blushed brightly. Usually that was Alastor's laugh.
"And you call me the piglet, dear." Alastor teased through snickers as he stared down at his next target. He wasted no more time before dancing his sharp nails up and down his socked sole, making Vincent erupt into bright laughter.
This was much easier to deal with. It still tickled, but it felt more like a playful tickle fight rather than insane mind-bending tickle torture.
Now instead of laughter being punched from his gut, it poured freely like a faucet.
These were way better conditions to think under.
Now, think, what in the unholy fuck had Alastor so pissed off?
"My darling Vincent is so sensitive." Alastor spoke under his breath, Vincent wasn't sure he intended him to hear.
"Whahahat wahahas thahahat?"
Alastor looked up and his happy expression soured when his eyes landed on...
His lips?
Vincent's eyes widened.
The possessiveness. The anger. The claiming.
No. Fucking. Way.
"Did you finally figure it out?" Alastor rested his hands on the bed.
Vincent continued grinning because holy fucking shit.
"Alastor, are you jealous?!"
Alastor flushed a deep crimson all the way down to his neck and stared back with eyes the size of dinner plates.
FUCK. YES.
"I am not jealous!" His voice cracked midway through the sentence, clearly embarrassing him further. Vincent snickered in immense amusement. "You just need to know who you belong to! That wretched girl kissed you on the lips. I'm the only one-" Alastor screeched his sentence to a halt but Vincent was happy to continue.
"You're the only one who has access to my lips, right? Oh my God, you are jealous!" Vincent fucking cheered because holy shit this was the best day of his entire life.
And god DAMN was red a good look on Alastor. Well, he did wear red, what he meant was his face. He'd never seen him so flushed!
Quick as a bullet, Alastor's embarrassed expression flashed into terrifying determination.
Oh shit.
"AAIEEEE- FUHUHUHUCK!" Vincent wailed as Alastor's nails began scribbling at his pits after the man fucking pounced on him from the end of the bed. "WAHAHAIT! NOHOHO- AHAHAHA! IHIHI'M SORRY! AHAHAHALASTOOOOOR!"
The only break he got was when one hand temporarily left to get both the hairbrushes. He shrieked in panic before exploding into wild thrashing and screeching when the two weapons went to town on his worst spot yet again.
He wheezed in an all-consuming ache before erupting back into hysteria yet again. "IHI'M SORRY! AHAHAHAHALALASTOR, IHI'M SOHOHORRY! PLEHEHEASE, MERCY, IHIHI'M SOHOHORRY!"
Vincent didn't stop laughing for a while.
Alastor kept tickling him. He just. Kept. Going.
Vincent was actually going to die wasn't he? He already knew Alastor would probably be the one to kill him in the end. He just didn't think it would be so soon... or through tickling.
Just as his lungs were shrieking for air and his head was feeling loopy, he was released and oh God he could breathe again thank fuck...
The last of his remaining energy was put into gobbling up air like a lifeline as he sagged further into the mattress. Holy shit. He actually almost passed out.
A firm weight beside him followed by the clinking of metal. Alastor undid the belt holding back his hands and tossed it to the floor. Vincent's hands plopped onto his rising and falling chest.
The mattress shifted as Alastor laid down beside him.
Vincent turned his head to see his partner staring at him, his expression unreadable. He was silent as Vincent took the time to replenish his lungs with precious oxygen.
Once breathing was an instinct rather than a chore, Vincent turned to be on his side, facing Alastor head on. He reached out and gently held his hand, rubbing his thumb over his palm.
"You know I was just teasing before." He spoke hoarsely before clearing his throat.
Alastor didn't respond, but his brows were furrowed, a sure sign of some intense thinking.
Vincent smiled wider and tapped Alastor's nose. "C'mon, Doll, I hear those wheels a-turnin'. Tell me what you're thinking about."
"I just... dislike this emotion I'm feeling."
"Jealousy?"
Alastor growled. What used to be a warning sign to Vincent was now the equivalent of the hissing from a newborn kitten. Utterly endearing and nothing more.
"Yeah, it's not a fun emotion," Vincent said softly. "But, I gotta say, it's pretty flattering."
"It is?" He mumbled back.
"You kidding? The most incredible man on the planet is jealous because of me; because he's possessive of me; because I'm his. It makes me feel wanted, and loved."
Alastor finally smiled something genuine. His eyes met the blanket as he spoke his next sentence. "Well, you are."
Vincent grinned hugely. "And so are you." He leaned it for a kiss but Alastor put up a hand between them. Vincent wilted, eyes big and shimmering as Alastor scoffed.
"Wipe that horrid lipstick off first!" He spat.
Ohhh, that explained even more why Alastor was pissed. The woman's lipstick was on his lips the whole time. Yeah, that probably wouldn't sit well with him either.
Still. He couldn't miss the opportunity to tease.
"What? I thought you didn't mind me wearing makeup?"
"I don't mind you wearing YOUR makeup. Not someone else's! Go clean it off, and your foundation too. Only I get to see your freckles. Not her, not your bosses, only me."
Damn, Vincent could get used to possessive Alastor.
"Alright, alright, but I do expect that kiss when I get back!" Vincent called playfully as he exited to the bathroom to wash everything off.
Ugh, yikes. When he got a good look at himself in the mirror he could see the big splotchy lipstick mark. Just how much makeup had she been wearing? He hadn't really cared to notice when they were out.
He got his cleaning wipes out and scrubbed, making his face bare as the day he was born, freckles and all.
When he walked back to the bedroom he saw Alastor staring off into space, looking vaguely annoyed.
"Hiya, Doll." Vincent greeted as he crawled back onto the bed beside him. "I'm back."
"That you are." He leaned forward and Vincent eagerly accepted, joining them for a sweet kiss before Alastor separated them again.
"Still bothered by what happened?" Vincent asked softly.
"It's stupid." Alastor hissed.
"It's not." Vincent said immediately.
"I... I hate that other people see you as someone else's."
"Oh, believe me, me too. I wish more than anything we lived in a world where homosexuality wasn't a crime. To be able to take you out to dinner dates or hold your hand at the park..." God, Vincent was going to tear up if he kept going. "I... I love you so much, Alastor. I love you so much that it kills me. Every time I have to lie at work and say I'm single or that I'm just 'wading through the dating pool'... I hate it." He held both of Alastor's hands in his. "I wished there was some way I could fix this. If it were in my power I'd make sure no one ever questioned my love life ever again. I'd... I'd... I'd etch your initials on my chest if you asked."
Alastor chuckled, smile large and bright.
Vincent's voice cracked on his next words as he strained not to cry like a little baby. "Do whatever you have to do. Tickle me however you have to tickle me." He laughed. "Just, know... really truly know... I'm yours, fully and completely, you have me mind, body, and soul. I'd move mountains for you. Whatever I can do to ease this whole system for you... name it and consider it done."
Damn, there went one tear trickling down his face. And that look from Alastor told him he was going to point it out.
"There goes those sprinklers of yours again, Squeaks." Call Vincent crazy, but it sounded like Alastor was a bit choked up there.
"Anything I can do for you, Piglet?" Vincent whispered.
Alastor blinked, cheeks reddening a bit, and cast his gaze to the side. He opened his mouth to speak before abruptly shutting it again.
"You could," Alastor's voice lowered to barely a whisper, "make me laugh as well."
Damn. Vincent never thought he'd see the day Alastor blatantly unequivocally asked to be tickled.
If it were any other day he'd make him admit it louder and not give him anything until he did.
But, Alastor was dealing with some confusing feelings he'd never felt before and Vincent was nothing if not a good partner.
"Okay, Doll." He kissed his nose and reached over the side of the bed to pick up the discarded belt. "Arms up."