"Mhy god, dnond e ho--" Merlin exclaimed against Dean's hand, crowfeet appearing around his laughing eyes. "Skittish!" And just because, he reached over as if to ruin Dean's drinks too, because it was exactly what had happened to his. (It was ruined. He couldn't, with a straight face, claim otherwise.)

"So you're weak against cute?" Batting his lashes and adopting that duck-face that you so often see plastered across the internet nowadays, he pushed his face all in Dean's business, distracting him until he could wiggle his fingers against Dean's side. Sorry, mate, he knows about your ticklish problem and is shameless enough to use this information.

"Have a little taste, babe."