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When Matt became aware of himself, the world was dark. If the fire was there it was far away. He could hear. He could smell. Everything came at him very slowly. His skin entered the bubble of his awareness. The pillow under his cheek smelled faintly of cinnamon. Something was brushing his head in steady, even strokes. He was on a sofa. His? No. This was suede, not leather. His spine flexed, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t see. He really couldn’t see. There were people nearby, but he couldn’t sense them.
He tried to breath slowly and quell the rising panic. He tried to speak, but his mouth was bone dry. His lips felt very far from his brain. The pleasant stroking in his hair stopped, and he immediately missed it, pushing his head upward until it encountered a warm object. He nudged it gently, and a familiar chuckle sounded above his head.
“Matt?” Karen. He tried to make a sound again, struggling when he couldn’t. Karen’s hand (yes, it was Karen’s hand, small and soft with calloused fingertips) returned to his crown, carding gently through thick brown hair. Matt relaxed, sinking a little deeper into the dark water surrounding his mind.
“Foggy!” Too loud. “I think he’s waking up!” Eager footsteps. Karen was wrong, though, Matt thought. He wasn’t waking up, he was falling asleep. A sudden weight on the edge of the sofa surprised him. More of the cinnamon scent overwhelmed him. Foggy.
“Matt? Hey, Matt, you’re gonna be OK, buddy. Can you hear me?”
Matt tilted his head into half a nod, then opened his mouth and made a rasping sound. There was a small commotion, and strong hands helped him roll onto his back while someone lifted his pillow so he could drink. He was barely more than dead weight, but the water revitalized him while the air around him cleared just a little.
When Matt next opened his mouth he managed a questioning grunt.
“You got shot with a blow dart, dude. Like old school with feathers and everything. Clair was here, she says you just gotta sleep it off. The panic alarm worked, though. We got you to my place no problem after you passed out. You might want to avoid freezing puddles better in the future.”
The rest of Matt’s skin was waking up. A sweatshirt and flannel pants that were way too big, thick wool socks, a blanket. Despite the fact that most of his body wasn’t functioning, a pink blush still managed to paint Matt’s cheeks at the realization that some combination of Claire, Karen and Foggy had needed to undress him.. It grew deeper when he realized that the pillow he was resting on was in Karen’s lap, and that he had been all but begging for head rubs from her moments before.
“M’sorry.” He mumbled, barely intelligible through half-numb lips.
“We’re a team.” Was Foggy’s only response before getting up and walking into his kitchen.
Karen leaned forward, hair falling around Matt as she started stroking his hair again. “We’re on you’re team, Matt. Don’t forget it. Go back to sleep.”
The rhythmic brush of her hand was hypnotic, the closest thing Matt had felt to ecstasy. Some part of him resisted, blushing at the attention. He heard Foggy re-enter the room.
“Aw, he’s like a blind catholic ninja kitty.” Foggy cooed. Karen giggled. Matt made a grumpy sound.
“Don’t make fun of him.” Karen laughed, moving her hand to start rubbing it’s flat palm up and down the length of Matt’s sturnum through the thick cotton of Foggy’s sweatshirt. “I like cuddly kitty Matt.”
The man in question was busy trying to make his face express his displeasure, but not all of the muscles seemed to be working. He was forced to give up the endeavour when on one down-sweep Karen’s hand travelled beyond his chest to pinch playfully at his stomach. It was a move that never would have surprised him before, but as it was he immediately crumpled under her hand in a fit of soft, sleepy laughter. His hands flailed a little but he couldn’t do much else. Luckily Karen seemed to realize he had no hope of defending himself and had mercy on him after a few quick tickles.
“Hey, don’t rile him up. Save it for later.” Foggy commented as he walked back into the kitchen. Matt whined in protest. “Go back to sleep, Matt. There will be delicious food when you wake up.”
Karen started petting him again, slow and smooth. He felt thankful for them, for their lighthearted banter, because he was helpless just then, but he knew they had him. It was OK for now, everyone was safe. Matt sank fast into the deepest sleep of his life
##
The next time he woke his senses had started to come back. He was still halfway in Karen’s lap, and at some point Foggy had returned to perch next to Matt. Matt realized with a start that he’d rolled over at some point to drool on Foggy’s pant-leg.
“Hey, look who’s up!” Foggy cheered.
“S’rry.” Matt mumbled back.
“Hey man, what are friends for if you can’t drool on them when you’ve been drugged?”
Matt didn’t have an answer for that, so he settled for wiping a sleeve over his chin.
“Food?” Karen offered. “Foggy made curry.”
“Nuuuh.” Matt groaned, slowly stretching as much as he could. “Later.”
“You’re lucky.” Foggy teased, poking Matt in the side as he rose to clear away their plates. “I almost thought that was disrespect for my cooking.”
“Never.” Matt sighed. He settled himself on the couch before directing his attention to Karen, who lay one cool hand on his forehead and the other on his chest.
“Comfy?” She asked, and he could hear the cheeky smile in her voice.
“Yeah, this’s full service. Bandages. Clothes. Head pats.” He wanted to list more, but his face split in an ear-popping yawn.
“You were so cold and sad when we got you in!” She laughed. “You needed body heat and love. You’re lucky you didn’t wake up spooning with Foggy.”
“College.” Matt choked in response, making her laugh again. She helped him drink more water.
When Foggy came back Matt’s limbs were growing heavier.
“Are you back in full ninja mode yet?” His friend asked.
“No. Not full ninja.”
“Oh good! That means Karen and I can finally do this!”
“Do wh--” Matt started to ask, puzzled, before four hands were suddenly set upon him.
Matt immediately started to giggle, twisting to escape them as best he could. Karen’s fingers were tickling his neck while Foggy’s poked and prodded his sides.
“Why?” Was all Mat could manage through a stream of embarrassing, high pitched laughter.
“Why do you think?” Karen teased as she leaned over him.
“Killing mehehe th- the hard wahahay?” Matt reasoned.
“Oh, you like it.” Karen teased, one hand sneaking under his arm.
“Nohohoho!” Matt squealed in protest while his face turned bright pink.
“You do so!” Foggy insisted. “You told us. Wait.” He waved his hand at Karen so Matt was granted a giggly reprieve. “Don’t you remember?”
“Remember?”
“When we picked you up.”
“Today? I was awake?”
“You were the most talkative dead guy I ever met. You mumbled the whole way here.”
Matt winced. He didn’t like where this was going.
“OK... what was I saying?”
“Oh, just that you secretly love it when we tickle you and we should totes do it more often--” Foggy cut off with a dull thud when Karen smacked him in the shoulder.
“That’s not it!”
Matt scrambled to hide his very real concern. Karen carded her hand through his hair when she bent down to explain.
“You said ‘I like it when you guys touch me.’ and kind of implied through further mumbling that you’d like us to do it more.”
Matt’s face burned. He really hadn’t expected the reality to be so much worse than Foggy’s fiction. His embarrassment at being caught craving closeness and friendly touches was interrupted by the sudden influence of those touches when Karen buried her writhing hands under his arms.
Karen’s tone turned conversational while Matt giggled and thrashed.
“...Although contextually you said it right after I apologized for accidentally tickling you while we were trying to peel you out of that armour--”
“Which was done very respectfully by the way!”
“--so Foggy and I have decided to interpret as we see fit.”
“Nohohoho!”
“Hold him down, Karen, I’m gonna try and find skin.”
Matt’s half-coordinated hands were suddenly tangled with Karen’s while Foggy untangled Matt’s torso from his primary defence so far: the thick blanket they’d wrapped him in.
“Found it!” Foggy cheered.
“Karen! Save meheehee!”
Karen only gave Matt a stern stare.
“Did you think those puppy eyes would work on me?”
Matt wanted to reply that yes he had rather been hoping that would be the case, but Foggy had slipped his hands under Matt’s borrowed sweatshirt and had his fingers hovering over the smaller man’s ribs.
Matt’s attention immediately focused in on the skin under Foggy’s hovering fingers. He could feel the heat of his friend’s skin, the moisture on his palms and the shift in the air every time his digits flexed.
“Are your senses coming back?” Foggy teased, sensing the growing tension in the warm body next to him.
Matt tried not to laugh, but a few chuckles sneaked out the second he opened his mouth.
“Yehehes!” After that it was a lost cause, and breathy giggles came out of him with a jump every time Foggy so much as twitched.
“I’m not even touching him.” Foggy told Karen. Matt whined, wriggling in her arms.
“Wait!” Foggy’s voice had that edge of devious excitement that always filled Matt with dread. “Can I tickle you without touching you?” He wiggled his fingers, keeping them inches from Matt’s skin.
“Nohoho!” Matt cried, squirming.
“I think you’re lying. Karen, did I ever tell you about the time--”
“--Fohohoggy!--”
“--that I walked in on Matt with a girl, she was his girlfriend at the time, and she was--”
“--fuhuck you Nelson!”
“tickling him and he was pretty much promising her the moon if she’d only stop.”
“I was drunk!” Matt yelped, indignant.
Foggy ignored him. “What do you think we can get him to promise us?”
“This is dirty pool, Foggy!”
“What about making him promise to teach us some moves?” Karen suggested.
“I told you,” Matt objected immediately. “you two aren’t gonna fight unless I have.. no, no, Foggy, don’t you dare!”
Foggy had shoved Matt’s sweatshirt up during his small tirade, exposing his stomach, which Matt immediately tried to suck in.
“You wanna give in?” Foggy asked, hands hovering again while Matt went back to giggling helplessly in Karen’s arms.
“I’m-- I’m drugged!” He protested, voice rising in pitch and volume when Foggy’s hands floated closer. “And blind! I am a drugged blind man you evil BASTARD!”
The last word was shrieked, and Matt’s last-resort sympathy tactics fell on deaf ears when Foggy started to tickle his belly. The touches lit him up like fireworks, and his old friend knew exactly which spots would drive him mad, the worst of which was right under his ribcage.
“Stohohohop! Foggy, pleaheeheese!”
“Is that the sweet spot?” It was a rhetorical question, which was lucky because Matt couldn’t do much but squirm and plead for mercy at this point. “You gonna give in? Alright, then. Karen, you’re gonna want to hold on tight for this...”
Foggy’s hands stopped tickling, and there was a baited silence broken only by Matt’s soft giggling. Foggy was gesturing something, presumably his intent, to Karen, but Matt couldn’t make it out yet.
“Ready Matt?”
“Ready for wh--” He heard Foggy take a deep, heavily dramatized breath, and as soon as Matt realized what was happening he drew his legs up in an attempt to cover his vulnerable middle “NO! Nonono Foggy don’t do that don’t do that don’tdothat! Pleaheeheeheese!”
Foggy pushed his legs aside with one arm, drawing another threatening breath.
“No! I give! I give I give I give!”
Foggy chuckled. “Good choice. If you’d made me raspberry you I wouldn’t have stopped until I felt like it.”
Matt gulped, curling into a ball with his head still in Karen’s lap when she let him go. His whole body shivered with adrenaline as he hid his face in the pillow to try and fight off residual laughter and hide the goofy smile he was sure was on his face.
“I... hate you...” He gasped when he could, a recovery that took an embarrassingly long time.
“No, you don’t!” Karen insisted. “You love us! We know because you told us so when you were full of barbiturates.”
Matt groaned. “I am never calling you guys with a blow-dart in my ass again.