No more tickling. Merlin was much more interested in covering Dean's throat and jaw with open mouthed kisses and then slowly exploring his mouth with lips and tongue to really think about tickling. He merely shook his head and made some vague noises that were supposed to communicate the fact that he never tickled. At all.

He did, though, but it took a persistent jackass (like one of his brothers) to make him admit that.

It didn't seem like Dean was going for that route. Instead he was making Merlin shiver with those fingers in his hair.

Merlin made happily room for him when he wiggled down, letting their bodies slot against one another once more. He had managed to slide a thigh between Dean's at some point during the tickle war and held on that position now that he let his weight settle upon him once again.

Merlin was trying not to think about it, but if Dean would end up spending the night, he surely hoped it would be in his bed, with him this time.