Disclaimer: The author is in no way, shape, or form in any form of association with World Wrestling Entertainment (WWE), any of the wrestlers mentioned in this story, or anything else. I just wrote the thing. Please enjoy.
It was just another weekend and they were traveling around for a house show. Roman and Seth both had their titles hung up nice and proud, showing them off like the medals they were… And then there was Dean, who had his own title laid across his face at this very moment in hope that Roman and Seth would stop bitching at him for whatever he did. Something about putting himself in danger and thus putting everyone on the team in danger, but that wasn't it. Dean put himself in danger, sure, but he always does that. They should at least pretend they're used to it by now, God.
The title over the face doesn't seem to be working through, because Roman is still bitching at him and Seth is still bitching at him and Dean wants to bash his own skull in, even though it already feels like that happened. Maybe that's why they're bitching at him, but he really does not have the patience for this. He's so close to being asleep, managing to tune out the noise from years of practice, just before he feels clever fingers poke him on just the right spot on his chin. It has him jerking back away with a snort of laughter, and fuck, this is going to be bad, isn't it? Yeah, this is going to be very bad.
His weakness is made known and they're already both hopping to the both do it. Two sets of clever fingers prodding at all of his ticklish spots and Dean is soon left laughing as he tries to push the hands away desperately, especially when they move away from his neck. He begins to retaliate, first focusing on Seth, pointing him in his ribs and watching him squirm, then with the other hand, poking at Roman's armpit.
It's childish, really, and he wants to point that out since they're always on him about how he's just soo immature, but he can't, since he's laughing so hard. At some point, apparently one of them takes pity on Dean, who is laughing about how they need to stop or he'd piss himself, and one of them starts focusing on their partner. Dean is still laying on his back, his title above his head now, and he's watching as his brothers are mercilessly prodding their fingers into each other's weak spots, leaving the other in a wreck of giggles.
Honestly, you have not lived until you heard a man who looks the way Roman does full out giggle. It has to be one of the cutest things. Sure, seeing the guy smile was as great as seeing the sun after a long, cold night, but hearing him giggle was like holding the stars. Same with Seth, their baby brother, who giggles and squirms and tries his best to get away, but never being able to get far enough to save himself.
Dean is grinning at the sight, moving one of his hands behind his head to just watch Roman more or less torture Seth by endlessly tickling him. Apparently, the movement catches their attention again, because Roman's hand stops and his eyes track over to where Dean has his side exposed, oh no. He should have really thought that over.
Dean is trying as fast as he can to bring his hand back down again, but it's too late, because Seth jumped before Roman even had the chance. His fingers are once more torturing Dean, sending him into another wave of giggles that has him swatting at Seth's hands. Roman decides to help, once more going back to tickling Seth, who relent some, but Dean decides that it's not fair that no one is tickling Roman and he doesn't want him to feel left out.
So, that's how they end up in a bit of a tickle triangle, their very masculine giggles, thank you, sounding through the room until they were all basically wheezing and collapsing against each other in a group submission. Dean is still laying on his back with both of the other's laying half on top of him. It's only a few moments of labored breathing before Dean is breaking into a fit of laughter at what just happened.
Seth and Roman both look up at him, perplexed at the sudden laughter when nothing was going on, and it just causes Dean to laugh all the harder, covering his face with his hands and shuddering with it. He doesn't remember the last time he actually had a moment like that, a moment so… happy and innocent.
"Fuck," he gasps out between his laughs. "Fuck, let me up, I feel like I'm about to piss myself." Seth and Roman both move and Dean is bolting to the bathroom, still laughing his ass off. Seth and Roman look at each other as the sounds of laughter turn into snickers on the other side of the bathroom door.
The look on Seth's face morphs though, his lips twitching and quirking, but he's trying to push them together to stop that onset of laughs, but it's only reduced to innocent snickers, and Roman is joining along before he can really help himself.
Dean comes back out and they all get settled again, all of them snickering to themselves as they get situated on the bed. Dean slips his hands into both of his teammates' hairs, tangling his fingers into it and tugging some because he was an asshole. Both Seth and Roman look up at him with a bit of a glare that didn't have any real heat behind it and Dean grins before he's kisses both of their heads.
Everything's quiet and they're just lying there, allowing their heart rates to calm and their breathing to even, before Dean is reaching above him and grabbing his title again, putting it over his face again.
"I am the tickle champion," he murmurs defiantly after a moment, snickering to himself as both Roman and Seth poke him again, causing him to squirm. "We're all the tickle champions."
"Just go to sleep," Roman huffs, taking Dean's title from his face and laying it on the floor. Dean pouts at him, but in the end, just gets comfortable. No need for any more arguing, after all.
I love fluff almost as much as I love angst.
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