A pounding heartbeat is all that can be heard as Dean starts stalking towards him, Sam is all too aware that he is royally screwed.
However, because Sam is not one for giving up, he takes his chances and bolts. The problem that remains: Dean is not one for giving up either.
Their chase carries them through the kitchen, past the couch and into an eating area where they play almost a little dance, each moving on one side of the table. They remain in this pose till Dean's steps falter for a moment, and Sam - Seeing his slim chance, takes the opportunity to run for the hallway.
But he underestimates Deans surprising speed, having expected to be able to get into his bedroom and lock the door. Hopefully to wait out until Dean loses his vengeful tickling flare. Alas, he has no such luck.
Dean barrels through the door before Sam even has a chance to shut it completely. "Dean please, we only did it to help you. I'm sorry Dean, no wait-" Sam's plea is cut off as Dean tackles him onto the bed. 'Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit.' Sam thinks to himself, trying to twist out of his brothers vice-like grip.
"Sorry Sammy, an eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth." Then he looks down and winks "A tickle for a tickle." Sam just groans in frustration and returns to struggling. By this point, it's hopeless to even try.
Dean is awkwardly positioned on top of his legs at an angle, leaning forward to keep hold on Sam's straining arms.
Dean is still out of breath from his own ticklish experience, but lust for revenge gives him a new spark of energy. 'Sam will be easy to get back at, but the angel….' Dean thinks to himself absently. 'Sam is ticklish everywhere and his reflexes just kind of shut down as soon as you touch him, but Cas is a damn warrior of heaven.' His thought continues as he grabs a stray robe belt to make an improvised restraint for his brothers ever-flailing arms.
Sam, as if sensing his thought process, takes a new tactic to plea to Dean. "If you let me go, I'll help you get back at Cas. You know you can't do it alone. You want to get back at him just as much as you want to get back at me." Sam offers hopefully, stopping his struggling for a moment to look at Dean with his signature puppy eyes.
Dean doesn't even consider for a second. "Counter offer." He says, smirking as he continues. "How about I tickle the living shit out of you, 10 times worse than you did to me, and THEN you still help me get back at Cas." Dean finishes, with an innocent yet smug grin.
Sam looks like he is going to argue more, but then shut his mouth again, seemingly realizing he isn't exactly in a position to demand or bargen. Dean is in control now and both of them know it.
Fully aware he won, Dean continues "You want to get back at Cas too. He left you with me. THAT'S how I know you will help me either way. So just sit back, relax, and laugh Sammy~" Dean finishes, in a sing song voice.
In one more frantic burst, Sam pulls against his restraints, but Dean had them tied tighter than Cas's sarcasm level. In other words: unmovable.
"N-no Dean plehehease." Sam begs as Dean lifts up his shirt, giggling now from pure, dreadful anticipation.
"Sthohohop Dehehehehean! Youuuu can't-t do thihihihis!" He begs as his brother begins swirling his fingers around his Moose of a brother's stomach. Alternating between light scratches and firm pokes to keep the younger Winchester guessing.
"Oh I can't? Is that's so Sammy? I can't do it? What a shame." Dean responds with a lazy grin, solidifying his pace to dig all ten fingers full force into Sam's stomach. The laughter that erupts from the man is unimaginable.
"NOOOOOOOOO DEHEHEHEAN! PLEASEEEEE HAHAHA NOHOHO." The larger man cries out, pulling hopelessly at his restraints as his blue eyed tickle-demon of a brother works his hands up and down Sam's entire torso. His big brother instincts knowing exactly where to exploit to get Sam to scream in hysterics, just like when they were young.
Despite that his original intentions were revenge, Dean can't help but feel a loving tinge break through. It has been a while since the two of them had acted like brothers. So care free and childish.
'And the little bitch deserves this for wounding my pride like that. Especially in front of Cas.' Dean thinks, the thought causing blood to rush to his face.
But instead of dwelling on the thought, he pushes it away and channels it into his hands. Sam obviously feels the difference because his laughter increases to where he can't even beg anymore. Tears of mirth and beginning to form. His brother truly is too ticklish for his own good.
"HAHAHHAHAH DEHEHEHEHHAN" Is all Sam can manage to through his musher before it goes silent. His face red and teary.
Dean should stop, he knows it, but he promised to get back at them both tenfold. And Dean isn't one to break a promise.
However, he does have the heat to give his brother a small reprieve. "Are you done?" Sam gasps out between large breaths, his eyes bleary with hope.
"Not even close." The blonde Winchester replies, chucking as he watches the brief light die in his brothers eyes. Replaced instead by playful fear. "How can I? I haven't even gotten to your worst spot yet Sammy." Dean continues with a wink, his smile widening.
Sam immediately stiffens, all remnants of hope gone from his mind without a trace. "Oh do you remember that spot Sammy boy? The spot that you always lost to? The one that turns the giant-ass samsquach of yourself turn to goo?" Dean continues, enjoying himself way too much as he word seeming causes his brother to sink deeper and deeper into the mattress below him.
"Dean please, I-I've had enough. I'm sorry you don't like being tickled, b-but you were in a funk and - oh shihihihit." Sam's crippled plea for mercy is cut off as Dean remounts his attack.
"Breaks over." He exclaims gleefully. Sam just laughs and squeezes his eyes shut in response. Suddenly, Dean turns himself around, and Sam immediately starts flailing, knowing exactly where Dean is going.
"NOOOOO DEAN PLEASE DON'T I'M BEGGING YOU!" Sam screams as Dean lifts one of his legs. "No can do Sammy, I think your special spot under your kneecaps need some love." The older man responds with his signature 'I'm a jerk, but you love me' grin.
Already giggling in dreadful anticipation, Sam finally comes to terms that Dean has his mind set on pushing him into ticklish oblivion. And Dean is damn sure going to do it. Sam is screwed and he absolutely knows it. All that's left is to take the wrath he - apparently, deserves.
Dean stokes one finger down Sam's under-knee and earns a stifled squeak and a knee jerk. Then he adds two more fingers and starts gently strokes the sensitive skin, grinning while he does so as he watches the ticklish muscles continue to spasm in reaction to his touch.
"Nohoho! D-dehehean st-t-tohohop!" Sam pleas, attempting to twist his way out of Dean's death grip around his legs. No such luck; Sam is strapped down for the ride until Dean is done.
Which he doesn't seem anywhere close to being.
"Once again: I don't think so. But I like this begging thing Sammy. Let's kick it up a notch shall we?" And with those uttered words, Dean goes full attack under Sam's kneecaps. To say Sam screamed would be a horrendous understatement.
"PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE NOHOHOHOHO AHHH! DEAN NOHO MOHOHOREEE!" He cries out through his hysterics. All while thrashing and flailing and tugging and honestly, just utterly failing on all fronts of escape.
"NOT THERE NOT THERE NOT THEHEHEHRE!" He knows it was hopeless to beg. Especially now, especially to Dean. But Sam just can't stop, he is in ticklish hell.
'Thank goodness that doesn't actually exist.' Sam thinks to himself. 'But then again, this is pretty damn bad too.'
Finally, when it becomes obvious Sam can no longer breathe correctly, Dean let up his attack. Enjoying the sight of his brother reduced to mush below his fingertips.
He reaches up and releases the knot keeping Sam's arms immobile. Which takes a while due to the fact Sam's constant pulling tightened them insanely. Dean quickly resorts to grabbing the knife next to the bedside and cutting the robe belt.
Even after the restraints are gone, Sam's arms stayed limp above his head, too exhausted even to make the slightest movement.
"Screw you." Sam mumbles with a drowsy grin. He attempts to flip Dean off but only succeeds in slightly rolling over and burying his face in the pillow.
Dean just laughs and pats his worn-down brothers' back. "Bitch." He retorts endearingly. "Jxwkd." Sam responds, his words are garbled from his face stick being pressed into pillow, but they both know he said "jerk."
"Be sure to get some rest Sammy. You're helping me get back at the angel tomorrow. My revenge ain't done yet." Dean adds gleefully as he walks out of the bedroom. His pride is fully restored as he struts down the hallway with a triumphant smile. Ready to do it again tomorrow.
Sam merely groans in response before allowing the pull of sleep whisk him away to dreams of ticklish kneecaps and asshole angles. Grinning all night long.