Well of course Fisher was ticklish! It's sort of emo law that, if anyone does penetrate the icy stare of a dreary dude, they are rewarded with someone who giggles like the Pillsbury Doughboy when poked. Which is precisely what Fisher did. "Don't you start!" he warned, though he had nothing to fight back with. He didn't think James was ticklish, and even if he was Fisher was too worn out to try it. But he'd extact revenge if he needed to. Someday.
When James requested that Fisher come to him, his first thought was This guy is insatiable. But James' voice was different this time. It was sweeter, more childlike. Like he was actually asking instead of insisting. So Fisher scooted over to him, surprised that James was snuggling up against him. Fisher had never been one to cuddle post coitus (not since his first time, anyway), but he wasn't going to pull away now.
Fisher slid one arm under James' head and wrapped the other around him, resting it over the arm James had around Fisher's waist. He pulled James close to his chest, resting his mouth against James' forehead. He kissed it gently. "Okay," he said, in response to the request not to blab. He knew James was teasing, but his answer was serious. If there was one thing that Fisher could do, it was keep secrets.
Slowly, he traced his fingers in lazy lines up and down James' back, just enjoying holding someone. It had been far, far too long since last time. "You wouldn't kick my ass," he informed James after a moment. "But I'll make a deal with you." A smile broke out on his lips. "I won't let anyone know you're a softie, if you don't tell anyone I find you anything less than insufferable."