Gargalesthesia - The sensation caused by tickling.

"Let's watch a movie," Rin says, laptop in hand as he drops upon the bed, the feathertop floofing and sinking under him as he sprawls across the comforter. It's a Friday night; Sousuke's been studying for almost five hours and Rin's restless and, admittedly (endearingly, in his own opinion), needy for attention. Sousuke eyes him from his spot at his desk and glances between Rin's very intentional pout and his Human Anatomy textbook (he'd decided to study sports medicine abroad, in Australia, with Rin, after a year of long distance and a relationship composed of soundbites and glitchy images).

He closes the Human Anatomy textbook, abandons his only slightly messy desk (Rin adamantly insists that he won't clean up after Sousuke, but somehow finds himself stacking Sousuke's cluttered papers into neat piles, arranging scattered highlighters into a rainbow-ordered rectangle, and tucking the stapler neatly beside the desk lamp after every particularly rough test, the small smile that always appears on Sousuke's face, no matter how exhausted he may be, too sweet a reward), and crawls beside his boyfriend.

"What do you want to watch?"

Rin hmms in response, flicking through one Netflix recommendation after another as Sousuke props himself on his elbow and opts for watching the way Rin bites his lip in thought before rejecting another B-rated movie, the wisps of red hair just short enough to fall loose of his messy braid, the jut of his shoulder blades and lean muscles exposed by the racer back he tends to laze about in. Or, that's what Rin assumes he's watching, since something about the way he's being watched makes his heart beat a little faster and his skin tingle, before a warm hand is suddenly on his back.

Sousuke favors feather light touches, particularly over areas of Rin he knows to be too sensitive for such soft swipes, skin so quick to break out in goosebumps when Sousuke slips his hands beneath Rin's shirt, fingers drifting over his ribcage and the curve of his waist in a way that makes a warm, curling, fluttering feeling settle in Rin's stomach and seep into his limbs. It's just the attention he was seeking and Rin's almost ready to abandon the racing movie he's just started (because he wants more of this feeling, wants Sousuke to focus only on him and not some silly film, wants to show Sousuke attention in return) when -

Sousuke betrays him, curls his fingers against the dip in his waist before flicking quickly over his skin. Rin's stomach drops in rush, skin suddenly hypersensitive to inescapable hands, instantaneously breathless, because Sousuke's tickling him, that bastard.

Rin can't even stop the loud sound he makes, one that's more of a yelping gasp than an laugh, before both of Sousuke's hands are under his shirt, and Rin's struggling to get away from his grip, his entire body telling him to stop whatever is forcing him to make such an embarrassing sound, before it settles into a full laugh peppered with pleadings for Sousuke to stop.

"Sousuke, stop, you're such a - fuck, STOP IT - such an ass," Rin manages get out between gasps, eyes clenched shut tight, all bite to his words lost in his laugh and the traitorous smile on his own face. Sousuke hums to himself, a feigned contemplation of pausing, but his hands keep moving over his skin. Rin tries to turn over, ends up dragging Sousuke on top of him when Sousuke refuses to let go, and he has half-given up to the bursting, curling, too strongsensation rushing through him, half-debating if he can launch Sousuke off of the bed if he kicks up hard enough, when Sousuke's hands still.

Rin opens his eyes just in time to catch the teal of Sousuke's before they close, catches one quick breath before their lips meet. It's not the burn of touches meant to lead to more, or the overwhelming fluttering, dropping, rushing of tickling; kissing Sousuke like this slips over his skin, wraps around him, fills him with something entirely content, tells him how much he's loved.

There's a moment that follows, when Sousuke's lips have left Rin's and all they can do is stare at the slightly dazed, slightly goofy glow in each other's eyes and painted in a flushed pink across their faces.

"Still think I'm an ass?" The hands beneath Rin's shirt move slowly now, sweetly, and Sousuke's weight is a heavy, pleasurable press against him.

"Hmm…" Rin reaches up and threads his fingers through Sousuke's hair, watches Sousuke leans into his touch, then closer into Rin's space until his lips linger just above Rin's, close enough for Rin to practically feel Sousuke's mouth against his when he whispers, "Yep."

(If Sousuke has a problem with that, the next kiss on Rin's lips - slow and burning and everything tempting - says otherwise.)