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Roderick was not having a good day.
He slept through his alarm for a really important class, forgot his work books, kept bumping and tripping over shit in the history club room, lost his Nami keychain and was blindsided by a class quiz he was absolutely sure he flunked.
He didn't even feel like watching anime or eating cookies and cream ice cream. Not even the shenaniganery of One Piece could lift his spirits up, as he stared with blank eyes and hollow laughter he forced out his throat to try and gaslight himself into being upbeat again. That was how much of a travesty today was.
What made it worse is that Ian had his totally not girlfriend Emily over, and his inner machinations worked on making sure he knew he was as undesirable as humanly possible. What was he next to Ian or Othman or Cassian? A loser, that was what.
He groaned, finally shutting off his laptop as the usual jokes and screaming were beginning to grate on his ears. His tub of ice cream was shoved back into his mini fridge and he put his laptop back into his drawer. Maybe he ought to put on some earphones and pull out his angsty anime song playlist on Spotify-
"-back here! You are so dead, Ian, I can't believe you sometimes-!"
"Emily, it's not like that- No, no, put that down, Emi. Emi!"
"Pet names won't save you now, Ian Weaver."
What is happening?
Roderick slips on his Haida slippers and waddles to his door in his oversized black and purple Kuromi sweater.
"Emily, no, stop-!" A surprisingly shrill scream came from the living room...
Was that Ian...?
Peeking out the door, he sees them, on the couch, and he could only assume Emily is straddling his best friend, Ian, and... Emily's feather pen lookalike pen on the ground...?
He has absolutely no idea what Emily could possibly be doing to make Ian's legs fly up in the air and kick as though he were helplessly drowning and his voice panicked like he was about to undergo a harrowing artificial tidal wave at a swimming pool.
If there's one word Rod would never associate with Ian, it was helpless. His own helplessness would probably demand pleas for mercy from his enemies still.
So what on earth was Emily doing?
"Emily, what is-"
"Rod, get this deranged woman off of mE-!"
"Roderick Richman, if you know what's good for you, you'll stay out of this-"
Ah shit, this is probably one of the most difficult choices Roddy's had to make, and he took today's economics quiz. Defend his best friend's honour, or leave him to suffer at the hands of his girlfriend-
Hold on, what was she doing...?
"Emily, I swear to god, don't do this, not in front of fucking Roderick of all fucking people-!" Ian chuckles nervously as he keeps his girl's hands at bay, holding onto the wrists of her predatory hands.
"Then you shouldn't have fucking moved all the furniture in the history club room 2 inches to the left then, you fucker-"
"WAIT!" Roderick shrieked, hands to his head in utter confusion, "Can someone please get me up to speed? And no funny business, I've had the shittiest day in the history of shittiest days..."
Ian and Emily looked at him. Looked at each other. Then looked at him again.
Ian opened his mouth.
Emilia smacked a hand over it.
Ian licked it.
"You gross motherfu-!"
"I may have shifted a few things in the history club room-"
"-He did it because he was fucking bored!"
"No, I was trying to redecorate!"
"You're fucking terrible at interior design, nothing fucking changed!" Turning back to Roddy, she exclaims, "He was bored and wanted to see everyone trip over during the meeting! Cassio's hip is probably more bruised than his ego will be by the time I'm done with him!"
"Emily, come on, don't say it like that, it was just a prank-!"
Roderick had never felt so betrayed. This was inexcusable. This was on par with being stabbed by Ian. He couldn't forgive this.
"So you're saying the bumps and bruises on my knees were because of him?" He spoke up, voice unusually low and quiet.
"Absolutely, Roddy." Emily nods firmly, ignoring the glare Ian was giving her.
"..." He turned to his traitorous best friend, and for once, Ian was sporting a look that resembled something entirely foreign on his face.
Anxiety.
"Roderick Richman..." He smiles nervously, his eyes creased in a manner that was trying (but failing) to keep the calmness from seeping out his demeanor.
"Ian Weaver..." He glares back, his does eyes, while not being able to sharpen, did harden significantly, as in, his round eyes became more elliptical with how he squinted, "Why?" He crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes at the freckled man.
"Demand me nothing, what you know you know!" He claims dramatically, "I shan't speak another word."
"Oh, torments will ope your lips, bastard."
Ian's not the only one who can recite Shakespeare.
"..." Ian swallows nervously, his facade of theatre kid charisma crumbling faster than the hope in his eyes, "Look, it was just a prank, bro-"
"Oh, no. No, no, no. You always think you can give a poor excuse with your womanising charms and level 10 rizz. But not this time. This time, I'm siding with your girl. And I'm not pressing F to pay respects anymore."
Saying all that shouldn't have been as intimidating as it was, but Roderick was determined on getting some payback.
...
Ian's body tries leaping out from beneath Emily, but she anticipates this. Like a mother hawk, she grabs the snake that is Ian and they are engaged in battle, twisting and turning on the couch, like predator and prey in the middle of aerial combat.
Iago nearly escapes, but Emily slings a leg around his waist, trapping him and pulling him back down onto the sofa. With her arms hooking beneath his underarms, Ian's upper body is practically splayed out for all to see.
"RODDY, AIM FOR THE ARMPITS-!"
"What the-?! EMILY, NO-"
He blinks, "What?"
"JUST DO IT!"
"ROD, NO-"
Roderick wastes no time. He forces himself to move, having expressions like that of Tanjiro as he fights demons, as he shoves his fingers into the pits of hell-
Ian jolts.
And time seems to stop.
...
...
...
"Um..." Roderick looks to Emily, "...so, why did you tell me to aim for his armpits, Emi?"
"You idiot, tickle him!"
Ian glares at her, "Don't listen to her, Rod! I'm not-!"
"Oh, you are so fucking ticklish, you bastard." She mocks in a sickly sweetly smug manner, "I hold him down, you attack, Roddy. Come on!"
Oh.
Oh.
For the first time in his life, Roderick sees actual fear in Ian's eyes, as though his life would be forever ruined by this day henceforth, a secret so horrific that it would mean catastrophe for its owner.
"Roddy, no." Ian pleads, trying to keep the last remaining shreds of dignity...
...
...
...
Roderick smiles, and in that moment, he understands why the Devil loves being himself so much.
"Roddy, yes."
He wiggles his fingers, digging deep into Ian's armpits, immediately going for easy killing blows, and Ian?
Ian fucking screams.
"FAHAHAHACK!" He cackles and it's not of his own will, and it's delicious to Roderick, who has never felt so in control of his own life and the lives of others in this moment, "RohohOD, NNNO- FUCKING STAHP-"
Roderick is the righteous hand of god, and it is judgement day, fellas-
With a position as tactical as his, and as poor as Ian's, Roderick begins exploring. He deploys one hand to abandon one of Ian's pits and travel south towards his ribs, jabbing into the cage of his heart lying beneath his ambushed flesh. Ian throws his head back in another wicked cackle, nearly hitting Emily, who swiftly dodges, understanding the dangers of ticklish warfare.
A kick to his thigh, and Roderick shifts into a better position, practically straddling one of Ian's thighs as he bends closer to avoid his flailing legs.
"Coochie coochie coo-!" Roddy grins with pure, unadulterated joy, forgetting all about his awful day.
"F-FUCK OFF-" Ian breaks into another guffaw, his attempts to restrain himself failing tremendously, "EMI- EHEHEHE-!"
"No one can save you now, Ian." She whispers as she joins in the tickle fight as well, her fingers spidering across Ian's neck. He actually squeals and bends his neck, trapping Emily's fingers, foolishly thinking she'll back off, but she simply continues lightly scratching the skin of his throat.
"This is for being a pain in the ass!" Emily doubles down, licking his neck, and the coolness coating his skin makes him shriek like an offended schoolgirl, as he tries swatting at her unsuccessfully with his arms forced apart by her arms hooking beneath his armpits.
"This is for that time you tickled me!" Rod yells triumphantly as he keeps up the pressure, going back to digging the snake's armpits.
"This is for shooting Mona in Call of Duty when she didn't even know the controls yet!" Emily shouts.
"This is for beating Mona at Mario Kart by constantly blue shelling her!" Roderick screams.
"WHAHAHAHAT THE FUCK-!"
"This is for that time you called me a nerd for liking DnD before you started liking it too, you hypocrite!"
"EMIIIEHEHEHE, I-I AM SORR-EHEHEHEEE-!" He pleaded maniacally through equally maniacal laughter, "E-EMILY, PLEHEHEHEASE-"
"This is for all the money you borrowed and never gave back!"
"ROHOHOHODDEEEHEHEHEEE, STOP, FUCKING HEHEHELL, YOU TWO, I'M GONNA PISS MYSELF-!"
Ian was making all sorts of noises Roderick never could have imagined coming out his mouth, and yet, here he was, his effortlessly cool-headed best friend reduced to a mess of desperate pleas as his secret weakness was uncovered and taken full advantage of.
He reconvened his efforts back to the ticklish crevices of Ian's underarms.
Ian screamed.
.
.
.
Somehow, the tickle ambush managed to tire all three parties, as they laid lazily on the sofa, catching their breaths and idly listening to David Attenborough ramble satisfyingly about penguins on the TV.
Ian was a throughly thrashed opponent by the end of it, hiding his sensitive body and bruised ego beneath a literal blanket of wool, and a figurative blanket of shame.
Roderick's hand slowly trailed across where the collarbone would be, and Ian gives him a hard elbow for it.
Emily chuckles, her demeanor softened from earlier, "Someone's sensitive..."
"I fucking hate you two so much..." Ian mumbles beneath his blankets, genuinely embarrassed for the first time in ages. He's obviously not used to being the receiver of humility.
"We love you too, baby." Emily kisses his forehead gently, and Ian does come out of his shell a little.
"If you tell anyone else about this, I will murder you two."
"Sure." Emilia smiles, with a mischief that brings no certain promises.
...
...
...
Roddy giggles softly. Today turned out to be not as bad as he thought it'd be an hour ago.
"I have cookies and cream ice cream." Roderick offers quietly, wanting to soothe his freckled and heavily humbled friend, "...want some?"
...
...
...
"Yes." And Ian is back to swaddling himself with blankets and using Emily's ample thigh as a pillow, as he awaits Roderick's promise of frozen treats.