SHORTS NO. 5 - ‘A Day Without Tickling’

This story is set a few months after the end of ‘TCTLR’.

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23.45 pm, Tuesday

Tim, wearing nothing but a gold chain around his neck and a pair of navy boxer shorts, switched off the bedroom light with one hand whilst holding his jaw with the other.

“That toothache still bugging you?” Armie asked, as he stretched his naked form out over the mattress.

Tim climbed into the bed and shuffled up close beside Armie.

“Like a bitch,” Tim huffed, as he nestled into Armie’s chest.

Armie wrapped both arms around Tim, his lips pressing against the top of Tim’s head.

“It should be gone by the morning,” he whispered, his right hand trailing across Tim’s shoulder, his fingertips stroking the top of Tim’s waist.

Tim squirmed away from Armie and curled himself into a ball on the other side of the bed.

Armie cocked an eyebrow and rested his head on the pillow.

“You alright?”

Tim mumbled his reply.

“I’m not in the mood …”

Armie gulped, staring into the darkness as a solid silence filled the room; only the sound of a police siren thirty feet below, echoing through the New York streets, provided Armie’s regret with company.

During that moment of quiet, Tim found the time to gather some unexpected thoughts.

“Do you think you can spend one day without tickling me?” He asked, his back still facing Armie.

Armie winced.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realise you were finding it irritating …”

Tim rolled over and reached out to Armie, curling his hands around his wrists.

“No—”, Tim had no intention in hiding the urgency in his voice, “That’s not what I meant. I love you touching me the way you do,” Tim felt thankful he had switched off the lights, the blush over his cheeks boiled too pink, “Uh, what I mean is, uh … Could you actually do a day? Not because I want you to, because I wanna know if it’s possible …”

Armie tugged Tim closer.

“Are you challenging me, Timmy?” He kissed the tip of his nose.

Tim chuckled and nodded, biting his lower lip as he felt Armie’s right hand curl around his cock.

“Mnn-mn …”

Armie stroked Tim into a full erection, Tim’s arousal now so stiff it poked out of the waistband of his underwear.

“So I can do anything to you, with you, for one day … But I can’t tickle you?” Armie kissed Tim’s chin.

Tim’s eyelashes fluttered shut.

“I don’t think you can do it,” he moaned.

Armie’s hand tucked Tim’s hard on back behind the cotton of his boxers.

“If I succeed, do I get a prize?”

Tim curled his feet around Armie’s.

“You get these, in any way you want," Tim brushed his toes across Armie’s ankles.

Armie became hard instantly.

“The stocks, toe tied, my tongue as the tool…” Armie proposed in a whisper.

Tim burrowed his head against Armie’s curls of chest hair.

“… Only if you make it through the day …”

Armie closed his eyes.

“This time tomorrow,” he brushed his thumb across Tim’s cheek as he felt Tim’s weight sink into the bed, his body starting to fall asleep, “Your toothache will be gone, and you’ll be proven wrong.”

Tim drifted into a slumber with a smile on is face.

08.01 am, Wednesday

Armie liked to leave the window open most nights, even in the winter.

This ensured a cool morning breeze always greeted them when the day was ready to begin.

The floor to ceiling curtains lifted in a gentle wave as sunlight beamed across bedsheets tangled around Armie and Tim’s legs.

In the night, Tim had kicked away his underwear, leaving him just as naked as Armie.

Like yesterday morning and the morning before that, Tim woke with the feeling of Armie’s arousal pressing against the bottom of his spine.

Such a press would often lead to Armie shuffling down to the foot of the mattress, where he would worship Tim’s feet for a few hours before they would finally get up and make breakfast.

In other circumstances, Armie would be cheeky and tie Tim to the bed in the midst of his sleep, so his ticklee would wake bound and surprised with an seagull feather nearing his taint.

This time, Tim opened his eyes to the feeling of blown air arriving across the exceptionally sensitive landscape that made up the side of his neck, not from the breeze travelling through the open window, but from Armie’s lips.

Tim squeezed his shoulder up against his jaw, protecting the bare flesh of his neck, as Armie’s blow persisted in its whistled puff.

“See!” Tim attempted to wriggle away but Armie snatched hold of his erection like it was a gear stick, pulling him back, “It’s only a minute into the day and you’ve already failed …”

Armie curled his arms around Tim’s torso and continued to blow into his neck.

“I’m not tickling you, Tim … I’m simply breathing …”

Both young men fell into an aroused chuckle as Armie continued to ‘breathe’ into Tim, who became very aware very quickly that today might be a little different to recent days spent with Armie …

9.56 am

In the midst of their shower together, Armie arrived behind Tim and pressed his chest against his back.

Steam rolled around them as hot water pounded their naked bodies, Armie’s right hand curling around Tim’s right wrist.

Armie lifted Tim’s arm above his head, taking a foamy sponge towards the soaked curls of his armpit hair, where he began to scrub across Tim’s underarm.

Tim practically scrunched into himself, lifting his left knee up towards his stomach, a goofy, “—GAW-HAH!—” erupting out of his mouth as his feet slipped against the shower floor in a high pitched squeak, “—Stop!”

Armie raised his eyebrows as he continued to scrub Tim’s underarm, a grunt leaving Armie’s mouth as he used his strength to keep Tim’s arm above his head.

“What’s wrong, Timmy?”

Tim wasted no time in using his free hand to grab at the sponge, tearing it away from his armpit, his slim body overshadowed by Armie’s shower-soaked height.

“That tickles!” Tim whined, “And you know it …”

Armie held Tim against his chest and gently ran the sponge over his shoulders and upper spine, soaking his tickler’s pale, smooth body with bubbles.

“I’m not tickling you, Tim,” Armie smiled as he felt Tim relax amongst the steam, “I’m simply cleaning you …”

10.23 am

Armie and Tim stood opposite the bathroom mirror, a towel each wrapped around their waists.

Armie brushed his teeth with the same electric toothbrush he had used to discover most of Tim’s sensitive spots, whilst Tim used tweezers to pluck his forever growing eyebrows.

“I booked you a dentist appointment,” Armie spat some toothpaste into the sink, “For today. Get that toothache sorted out.”

Tim picked out an overgrown eyebrow hair as he nudged Armie’s side with his elbow, “Thanks, man. That’s sweet of you.”

Armie lifted his shoulders as he cupped some tap water and splashed it over his mouth.

“What can I say? I’m pretty sweet.”

Tim smirked as he smoothed his fingertips over freshly plucked eyebrows, placing the tweezers back inside his toiletry bag.

As he turned around, he stiffened into an alarmed jolt when he saw Armie’s index finger arrive at the side of his face.

“Oh!” Tim jumped back as Armie stroked him from his chin to his collarbone, causing Tim to giggle and stumble with such force that his butt landed over the sink, “Armie, damn —you gonna attempt this challenge or what!”

Armie’s fingers left Tim’s chest, where they then unhooked Tim’s towel, allowing it to fall at his feet, reducing him to a naked and intimidated stance against the sink.

Tim blinked, glancing down at his now exposed manhood.

“I’m not tickling you, Tim. I’m simply noting that you need a shave …”

Tim chuckled nervously as he used his right hand to feel faint stubble around his chin that was nowhere to be seen.

“I shaved yesterday!” He called out to Armie as Armie made his way towards the wardrobe.

“Get dressed, kid. We’ve got a busy day ahead …” Armie said.

Tim picked up his towel and scrambled out of the bathroom, following Armie like an eager student catching up with his teacher.

“Wait, hold up, what are we doing?”

11.42 am

“We’re getting a pedicure …” Armie announced, as they stood outside ‘Nails 4 U’, located in the heart of Brooklyn.

Tim laughed into the back of his hand.

“Okay, I get it. I see what you’re up to.”

Armie adjusted the collar of his jacket.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Armie could barely contain his smile, “Come on, we’re already late,” Armie pulled open the nail salon doors and allowed Tim to step in first.

Tim ran a hand through his hair.

“We’re really doing this?” He looked at two empty recliners and two ready and waiting pedicurists, “I’ve uh, I’ve never had one before …”

Armie faked a gasp, “You’re telling me feet as gorgeous as yours came naturally?” He held onto Tim’s shoulders and placed him closer to the recliner, “You continue to surprise me … Come on, take a seat …”

12.30 pm

Tim nearly dropped the tray of pedicure tools he had conveniently been made to hold, as his pedicurist used a wooden file to shape out the toe nail of his left index toe.

“Something the matter, Tim?” Armie sat beside Tim in his own recliner, reading The New York Times, with his feet in a bowl of hot soapy water.

“Nn, nope—” Tim’s eyes widened as his pedicurist continued to splay his toes and work the file through their betweens, “—We’reallgoodhere!—” Tim spluttered all at once, some giggles contained at the back of his throat as his pedicurist had to hold onto Tim’s ankle to keep his foot in place, the more his leg tugged within her grasp, the tray wobbling in his hold …

“Great,” Armie flicked the newspapers’s page, “I think they’re ready for the next step …”

Tim sighed in relief as his pedicurist began to massage both of his feet, soaking them in coconut oil, where he then felt able to rest the tray over his lap.

“The next step?” Tim closed his eyes, sank his weight into the recliner and tucked both hands behind his head, “Mnn, that feels awesome …”

Armie picked out a roll of cash from inside his jacket and snuck it inside Tim’s pedicurists palm, offering her a playful wink.

“The exfoliation stage … ” Armie smirked.

12.45

The receptionist of the nail salon giggled into her Starbucks as she watched Tim throw his head back in laughter, the tray now discarded in the form of a reckless throw, the pedicure tools landing on the floor.

“—Oh my gohahahahahahahad! Oh my gohahahahahahahahahahad! Oh my gohahahahahahahahahaaaad!—” Tim cried, both of his ankles held in a firm armlock by his pedicurist as she scrubbed both of Tim’s oil soaked soles with a hairbrush, “—-Please, you gotta stop, get offa me, lady!—” Tim had filled the nail salon with his own breathless bellows for the best part of five minutes, his hands clawed over the arms of the recliner most of the time, until he felt like he had no choice but to reach forwards and grab at his pedicurists shoulders, “—Hey! Come on, quit it! I can’t take it!—”

Armie sat back and smiled gleefully as his feet were tenderly massaged, his eyes twinkling at the sight of the nail salon’s manager grabbing Tim’s right hand, where he pinned it to the right arm of the recliner, an additional pedicurist taking his left hand where they too also pinned it down, this time to the left arm of his recliner, holding Tim in place.

“—Grr! Mnn! Damn!—” Tim tried to fight his temporary captors but their grip was too strong, “—Oh, ahahaha! Ahahaha, ahahahaha! Stop! Guys, come on! I told you, I can’t take it! Ahahaha! Ahahaha!—”

“That scrubber looks pretty effective, Tim,” Armie continued to pretend to read his newspaper, “At least you’re already silky smooth feet will be even softer, by the time they’re done …”

Tim thrashed in the recliner as his pedicurist continued to ‘exfoliate’ his soles, running the brush up and down the bottoms of his feet, covering their entire expanse from heel to toe, “—You’re gonna pahahahahahahahahahahahaaaaaaay for this, man!—”, Tim howled, his eyes squeezing shut, his head shaking from side to side, “—Oh my gohahahahahahahahahahahahahad please! Please, please, please, stop! Lemme out, lemme go! Come on, ahahahahahaahaha!—”

As the nail salon manager and two pedicurists continued to act out what Armie had sneakily paid them to act out, Armie closed up the newspaper and eyed Tim with a look that suggested the twenty eight year old was overreacting.

“Oh Tim, calm down—” Armie’s tone was unsympathetic yet playful, “They’re not tickling you, they’re simply exfoliating your feet …”

Tim grunted and growled into his chest as he used all of his strength and energy to kick, kick, kick his feet free, tearing his arms away from the pedicurist’s, where he then provided Armie with a fierce and excited glare once his soles were away from the brush.

“You sonovabitch!” Tim reached out to Armie and tried to grab at his sides, but Armie jumped out of his recliner before Tim had the chance to do so.

13.05

Outside the nail salon, Armie looked across the street and took in the sight of a local theatre.

“—’The Greatest Magic Show on Earth!’—” Armie read the theatres billboard out loud, “We could go see it tonight?” He turned to Tim.

Tim popped sunglasses over the tip of his nose as he tucked his hands into his jean pockets.

“Sure. I’m game.”

Armie snatched Tim’s right hand out from his pocket and pulled a pen from the inside of his jacket.

“I’ll need to jot down the time and street name, for when we come back …”

Tim stomped his feet and clenched his teeth as he endured the hyper sensitive sensation of a ball point pen scribbling across the softness of his palm.

“Man, I swear to god—”, Tim pressed his lips shut, flexing his fingers into a panicked stretch, “You’re devious, you know that?”

Armie let Tim’s hand go and pocketed the pen.

“I’m not tickling you, Tim. I’m simply writing on your hand …”

As Armie walked off, Tim glanced down at his palm.

The time for the magic show, or the address for the theatre, was not written down over his hand.

Tim read out the words Armie had scribbled.

“—’Cootchie coo?’—” Tm shook his head and laughed, jumping into an eager jog as he sought to catch up with his tickler.

14.09

Tim and Armie sat in the dentists waiting room as Tim curled his toes beneath his Nike’s.

“They do feel pretty soft,” Tim commented, pursing his lips, impressed by the pedicurists work.

“The torment was worth it, huh?” Armie patted Tim’s knee.

Tim scowled at Armie and jabbed at his side as the dentist poked their head through the waiting room door, “—I can still feel the damn brush going over my—”

“—Mr. Chalamet?”

Tim stood and took a step forwards before realising Armie decided to remain seated.

“You’re not coming in?” Tim asked.

Armie picked out his iPhone and scrolled through his inbox.

“I’ve gotta catch up on some emails. You’ll be fine.”

Tim scratched the back of his head and reluctantly turned to face the dentist’s room.

He closed the door behind him once inside and peered down to a large leather chair, tilted back at a ninety degree angle.

Beside the chair was a small table and tray containing various tools such as a plastic mouth opener, a hand held mirror, a tiny drill and a syringe.

Tim swallowed down a thick bubble of dread as he approached the chair.

“Take a seat, Mr. Chalamet,” the dentist readied a paper towel, “I hear you’ve been suffering with toothache?”

Tim sat in the seat, his entire body resting over the padded leather, the heels of his feet hanging off the edge towards the bottom.

“It’s on an off,” Tim explained, “Some weeks are worse than others.”

The dentist placed the paper towel over Tim’s chest and tucked the top half into the collar of his t-shirt.

“This is just in case you dribble …”

Tim landed his hands over the arms of the chair and nodded in understanding as the dentist picked up the plastic mouth opener.

“I’m going to place this between your lips,” the dentist showcased the wide, oval shape of the mouth opener to Tim, “It’s to keep your mouth open, whilst I have a look inside and find out what’s been causing you this discomfort…”

Tim nodded once again, stretching his mouth open as the dentist positioned the mouth opener between his lips, pulling his lips apart, exposing his gums and teeth fully.

Tim tapped his index finger over the arm of the chair as the dentist fingered through a nearby cabinet.

“Do you smoke, Mr. Chalamet?”

Tim grunted, confused as to why the dentist had decided to start asking questions at a time where he was so restricted in producing answers.

“Guhgimes,” Tim tried to say the word ‘sometimes’, his adam’s apple bobbing as his nostrils flared.

“Mnn,” the dentist produced an electric toothbrush, “How often do you drink?”

Tim narrowed his eyes as he tried his best to say the word ‘rarely’.

“Garegy,” as the dentist had predicted, a line of dribble had formed around his lower lip.

“Mnn,” the dentist switched on the electric toothbrush, the buzz and sound of intense vibration taking Tim by surprise, not because of how suddenly it arrived but because of how ‘used to the noise’ he felt, “Please try and sit still, I just need to remove some plaque before I begin my investigation …”

Tim nodded quickly, his eyes bulging out of his head as they watched the electric toothbrush travel closer and closer to his teeth.

“Guuh, guuh, guuh!” Tim kicked his feet as the electric toothbrush arrived at his upper lip, journeying across its fleshy, wet shape and down to the left corner of his mouth, his throat swelling with hysteria as the electric toothbrush whizzed down to his lower lip, “—Guhh! Guuh! Guuh!—”

Tim had now dribbled so much that the paper towel tucked into his collar had started to look soaked.

“Mr. Chalamet—”, the dentist warned, “—Please sit still, you’re uh, squirming a little too much …”

Tim felt a layer of sweat develop over his forehead as the dentist continued to run the electric toothbrush across the hyper sensitive, pulled apart chunks that made up Tim’s lips, lips that were forced open and splayed into an exposed stretch thanks to the mouth opener wedged between them.

“Guh giggling ge!” Tim rolled his eyes to the back of his head as his legs kicked outward, his hands clawing onto the dentist chair arms much like they did earlier in the day, in the same style of chair at the nail salon, “—Geeze ggooopp!—”, Tim could barely make sense, his ‘you’re tickling me’ and ‘please stop’ sounding more like gibberish than ordinary words, something that frustrated Tim in more ways than he could handle.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Chalamet,” the dentist watched the door pop ajar, where Armie stood smirking at him from a distance, “You’re not making any sense …”

Tim began to squeal behind the mouth opener, his fists scrunched into balls, dribble falling from the corners of his lips as the veins at either side of his head protruded, “—Geeeeeheheheheheheeeeeheheeheheheheeeeeeee!—”, Tim’s tongue tried to poke out of his mouth in an attempt to nudge the electric toothbrush away from his lips, but the dentist would just use the electric toothbrush to jab Tim’s tongue back inside his mouth, by pressing the tip of the electric toothbrush against the tip of Tim’s tongue, causing Tim to squeal and shriek even louder, the electric toothbrush now travelling over Tim’s lips in a constant, non stop, repetitive circular motion, “—Geeeeeeeeeheheheheehehehehehehehehehehe!—”

Tim was too polite to yank the mouth opener away, too kind to be rude and turn aggressive - because Armie was not acting out this kind of casual tickling, Tim naively assumed the dentist was just a little reckless at his job, until Tim saw Armie in the small gap between the door and door frame, smirking knowingly, a playful twinkle in his eye directed at a paid-on-the-side dentist, “—GEEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEEEEEE!—” Tim screamed.

Armie nudged the door open and folded his arms.

“He’s not tickling you, Tim, he’s simply cleaning your teeth …” he grinned.

15.20

Tim moaned in pleasure as his masseuse rubbed his shoulders and neck, his face planted to the side as he lay on his front with nothing but a towel covering his nude body from waist to balls.

“Mnnnn, this is more like it …”

On a massage table next to him lay Armie, who currently enjoyed the same form of treatment, however his masseuse paid strong attention to his lower back.

“You’ve had a busy day!” Armie declared, “You had your first pedicure, nearly kicked the owner in the face, got your toothache sorted at the dentist, dribbled so much they had to get you a third, no, fourth bib! It’s time to chill …”

Tim moaned again, closing his eyes, “I can’t hear you, Armie, I’m no longer listening …” he teased, knowing all too well that Armie had clearly intended to spend most of the day taunting him, “… Mnn, can you work my hip a little?” Tim asked the masseuse, “I think I pulled a muscle there a while back …”

The masseuse nodded, taking their firm touch down to Tim’s hip.

Armie peeled his head away from the table as he glanced at Tim’s masseuse, and then at the roll of cash sitting at the masseuse’s desk, “Don’t forget to work those special spots we spoke about, too …”

The masseuse nodded with a understanding smile as they rubbed away from Tim’s waist and down towards his upper thigh.

“Arrrrrrrrmieeeeeee!” Tim growled into the massage table as his left leg was stroked, poked and lightly handled by the masseuse, who used their other hand to ‘gently massage’ Tim’s right side, “This is meant to be relaxing!” He hissed, his legs kicking as the masseuse began to work their magic touch behind Tim’s knees, “How many people have you paid off today!” He giggled, his body unable to twist too much, incase either the towel fell away from his butt, or he rolled into a position where he would expose himself to a stranger, “Aw come on, man, just when I thought you were gonna go easy!” Tim chimed, the masseuse now working their fluttering fingertips up and down his sides, “—Ah! Ah! Ahahahahahahaha! Ahahaha oh stop, stop, stop!—” Tim wriggled so hard he almost threw himself off the massage table.

As Tim squirmed and squealed under the masseuses touch, Armie rested his head over his forearms and sighed in content.

“They’re not tickling you, Tim, they’re simply massaging you …"

17.30

Tim shielded his face as the spotlight left the stage and beamed into the seated crowd, landing directly onto him.

“It appears we have a two celebrities in the audience!” The magician announced, “Stars of Call Me By Your Name, Timothée Chalamet and Armie Hammer!”

The surrounding crowd erupted in applause as the magician stepped forwards and made room for a giant wooden board with leather straps nailed to its surface, as it was wheeled onto the stage.

“Timothée, your good friend Armie has put you forwards as my assistant for the evening, please, come down and join me!” The magician waved his arms as the audience cheered, Armie nudging Tim into a standing position.

Tim shuffled to his feet and covered his face with his hands.

“You bastard—”, Tim pointed a stern index finger at Armie, who offered him a blinding smile and a care-free wave, as he watched Tim make his way toward the stage.

“Up first … Knife throwing!” The magician allowed a busty blonde in a sequin dress to deliver a plate of knives, “Mr. Chalamet, please rest your back against the board, Felix will be over in a second to set you up …”

Tim began to feel flustered as Felix purred around him, her long blonde hair bouncing over her shoulders as she took Tim’s wrists and strapped them against the board, securing his arms above his head.

“Ever been tied up before, handsome?” Felix asked.

Tim could not help but shift his eyes gingerly to Armie, several rows above.

“Never in my life,” he murmured with a smirk.

Felix giggled into the back of her hand and stepped away as the magician picked up his first knife.

“Ladies and gentleman, I will now throw each knife at Timothée…” the audience provided a dramatic, ‘oooooh’, “… And I will miss him, each and every time!” The magician cleverly angled his face at the audience, “At least, I hope I do!” The audience laughed as the magician readied the knife.

Tim felt his heart beat pulsate beneath his t-shirt as he squeezed his eyes shut.

THUNK!

THUNK!

THUNK!

THUNK!

Tim’s eyes snapped open as he felt the board behind him shake.

Inches beside his face, a knife wobbled from side to side, the end of the blade stuck inside the surface of the board.

Above his head, a second knife wobbled.

Between his legs, a third knife, above his shoulder a fourth.

“Holy shit!”

The magician made his way towards Tim and grabbed the handles of the first and second knives, yanking them out of the board.

“That was a close one!”

The magician handed the knives back to Felix and then stroked his moustache as he looked at Tim, then at Armie, then back to Tim.

“Say, having you strung up like this has made me wonder …” suddenly, the magician began to tickle Tim’s underarms, “… Are you ticklish, Timmy?”

Tim bucked and thrashed against the board, jumping on his toes and kicking his legs as he threw his head from left to right, “… You too? Come on, man! I’ll pay you double if you stop!—” Tim twisted under the magicians touch as the magician lifted up his t-shirt and blew raspberries over his stomach, causing Tim to bend his knees and crease up his face, his howls of laughter causing the audience to laugh along with him, “—Wait, wait, wahahahahahahahahahahahahaaaaait!—”

“Okay, okay, I’ll let you catch your breath … Felix, do you have your saw …?”

Felix untied Tim, who immediately wrapped his arms around his chest as a form of self protection, “Saw?” He widened his eyes in alarm as the board behind him was wheeled away and a coffin shaped box on a table was wheeled onto the stage instead.

“I sure do, boss …” Felix, as if by magic, produced a saw from behind her back as the magician opened the lid to the box.

“Timothée, please climb inside …”

Tim hesitantly made his way towards the box as the audience continued to cheer him on, Armie clapping just as hard as everyone else, extremely pleased with the magicians efforts so far …

Tim hopped into the box and then shuffled downward so that he lay in a line inside, his grin showcasing nervous excitement as the magician closed the lid …

Once the lid had been locked shut, Tim realised it was just his head and feet exposed from the top and bottom end of the box.

“Of course,” Tim’s eyebrows raised into a panicked lift when he saw Felix arrive over his head with her saw, “You know, I’m not stupid, man. You can save it, stick to the magic …”

The audience chuckled as the magician took the saw from Felix.

“Who said anything about magic?” The magician began to saw through the middle of the box, “This is The Greatest Show on Earth, you’ll experience more than just magic here!”

Tim could see nothing, all he could hear was the saw slicing through wood, the survivor part of his mind informing him that there was no such thing as magic, that he might soon feel the sensation of a sharp blade slicing into his stomach …

“Wait, hold up …” Tim wriggled in the box, “… Yo, man! This doesn’t feel right!” Before he could express his alarm any further, the audience stood and cheered, erupting into fierce applause as the magician lifted the saw into the air.

Tim was rendered speechless as the box was divided in two, his head still poking out of one box, his feet still poking out the end of the other.

“How are you feeling, Timothée?” The magician handed the saw back to Felix, “Does it feel strange, to be cut in half?”

Tim chuckled as he turned to face the audience.

“Uh, it was less painful than I thought …” his comments caused the audience to chortle and cheer.

The magician began to unlace Tim’s right Nike, “And to prove that these are indeed Timothée’s actual feet …” he glanced over at Felix, “… Felix, care to do the honours?”

“Seriously?” Tim twisted his head and located Armie in the crowd, “—Seriously!—”

Felix tottered over to the box and used her fingernails to stroke the bottom of Tim’s right socked sole, “They feel like his feet to me!”

Tim shuffled in the box and giggled into nothing but humid stage air, his left foot now being stripped of its Nike and sock, his bare soles and toes exposed for Felix to toy with, “—Alright, we get it! They’re mine! Agh, stop! No, not there! Ah, damn, fuck! Hey, come on! No, don’t take off my other— damn!—”, Tim grunted as he felt his right sock peel away from his foot, both of his feet now twisting over each other in an attempt to block away Felix and her long, pointed, red fingernails as they danced and stroked over both of his soles, “—Damn, those are some sharp fingernails, lady!—”

Armie sat within the audience, clapping and cheering along, as he watched the magician take a feather from behind Tim’s left ear.

“And we’ll need to prove this is really Timmy’s head!”

Tim twisted his head away from the feather as the magician brushed it gently across his face, the sharp yet soft edges fluttering over his lips and mouth.

“—Hey! Pfft! Stop that! Pfft! Get offa me!—”

Tim lay in two parts of the box, giggling and wriggling within the interior, the box shaking and creaking as his face, soles and toes were tickled at the same time by two people at once, leaving the admiring audience shouting out for more.

“—No, wait, what are you doing! Hahahaha, hahahah, hahahah! Hold up, stop, enough, quit it! Stop tickling me, that’s enough! Pfft, pfft! Get that feather away from my fa— hey! No, aw, man! Enough with the nails, yo, listen to me, hey, this isn’t funny! Hey, hehehehehahahahahahahahaaay! Lemme out, lemme out! Lemme outta here!—”

The magician continued to flutter the feather across Tim’s face as he moved the second part of the box back towards the first, connecting them together once again, Tim’s bare feet still protruding out the other side, where the magician joined Felix in tormenting Tim’s feet by tickling the sole of his left, whilst Felix tickled the sole of his right.

“—No! Stop! Hey, oh my god! No, quit it, that’s enough! Please, come on! Oh, ohahahahahahaha! O, ohahahahahahaha! O, oahahahahaahaha okay, okay, alright, we get it, leave ‘em alone! Gemme out! Gemme outta here! Oh, o, o, oahahahahahaha, ahahahaha!—”

The magician’s eyes sparkled up at Armie as he flicked the feather around Tim’s now scrunched up toes.

“You were right, Mr. Hammer, his level of ticklishness really is quite magical!—”

21.00

Tim threw himself down over Armie’s bed, landing on his back with a bounce.

“I’m exhausted!”

Armie laid down beside Tim and propped his head up with his elbow.

“So, how did I do?”

Tim frowned and stared into the ceiling, pretending to think thoroughly as he contemplated an answer to Armie’s question.

“Uhhh, you did the total opposite to what I challenged you to do!” Tim crossed his legs at the ankle and placed his hands on his chest, “You must’ve spent a pretty penny, paying all those people to mess me around like that …”

Armie smirked, tidying up some of Tim’s curls of hair.

“Money well spent,” he then laid on his back and stretched out his arms, yawning sensationally, “And by the way, just so you know, I didn’t fail today… I succeeded …”

Tim rolled onto his side and climbed up onto Armie, straddling his waist.

“Is that so?”

Armie tucked his hands behind his head, the sprouts of his armpit hair protruding from the tight sleeves of his t-shirt.

“That is so …” he lifted his hips a little, taking Tim with him, “… The only people to tickle you today were the pedicurist, the dentist and the magician.”

Tim snuck his fingers into Armie’s bicep, causing his tickler to lose his breath and pin his elbows across his chest.

“Bull shit!” Tim declared, “The blowing on my neck? The stroking my jaw? The drawing on my damn hand?” Tim presented the words ‘cootchie coo’ on his palm my pressing his palm playfully into Armie’s face, “You failed, man, admit it!” He used his free hand to finger into Armie’s left underarm, “Grr! Admit it, Hammer!”

“Gah!” Armie giggled, twisting away from Tim, “I was breathing on you! I noted you needed a shave! Ah, ahah! I needed something to write on!—”

Armie used his additional muscular shape to take Tim in a sudden bear hug, throwing him down over the lower half of the bed, where he rested his weight on top of the kicking and squirming twenty eight year old.

Both young men eyed each other breathlessly.

“It’s not my fault that simply doing things to you causes a ticklish reaction …” Armie whispered, “… I won, fair and square. I get my prize …”

Tim tried to wriggle within Armie’s bare hug as he felt Armie reach down to his feet and tug away his Nikes, his socked soles scrambling under the bed sheets in an attempt to hide from Armie’s fingers.

“Stocks, toe ties, your tongue for tools?” Tim cocked an eyebrow as he leant up and kissed Armie on the lips.

Armie squeezed onto Tim.

“That’s my plan …”

Tim tickled Armie’s waist, causing him to leap away from him, where Tim then slid off the bed and bolted out of the bedroom door.

“You’ll have to catch me first!”

Armie sat up and sighed, his smile lifting his lips into a shining beam.

As he began his chase, he felt thankful for such a fun day, where he wondered if he could ever beat this level of happiness.

Little did he know, changes were on the way …