Sawyer was two seconds away from killing Sandy. “Can you stop, please?”

“I ain’t doing shit.” Sandy said and started tapping his pen again.

A muscle in Sawyer’s eye contracted with a twitch. “If you don’t stop I’m going to toss that pen across the room.”

Sandy glared at him and intentionally tapped the pen again. “Make me.” Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

Sawyer’s body tightened, threatening to explode. “Fine by me!” Sawyer dove for Sandy, tackling him to the floor.

“Sawyer!”

“Shut up!”

The two twisted together in a wrestling match knocking over chairs and shoving the coffee table. Sawyer couldn’t best Sandy in a wrestling match and he knew it. He did the next best thing. “Sawyer! No! Stop!” Sandy dissolved into laughter.

Sawyer didn’t stop tickling Sandy. Nope. If he did he’d loose the match and that wasn’t happening. “Say it.”

“No!” Sandy twisted in an attempt to make Sawyer stop. He tried in vain to protect his ticklish spots but luckily for Sawyer, Sandy’s ticklish spot was his entire body.

“Say it!” He wanted Sandy to say it or he wasn’t stopping.

“Can’t– Can’t breathe!”

“Obviously you can or you couldn’t talk! Say it.” Sawyer doubled his efforts.

“Uncle! I give up. Please!”

Sawyer immediately stopped and sat back on Sandy’s thighs. “Do it again and I’ll withhold sex.” He threatened.

Sandy was heaving and sweating but he smiled. “Do that again and I’ll throw up and pee on you.”

Sawyer rolled his eyes and got up. He held out a hand for Sandy. “You say that like you’ve never dont that before.”

“I was drunk.”

“Still counts.”