This story is set on January 6th, 2024

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“I’d never say ‘uncle’ …” Nico declared confidently.

Michael cocked an eyebrow as he threw some popcorn into his mouth.

“For real?” He kept his eyes on the wide screen television opposite as both he and Nico watched a James Bond movie in the comfort of their apartment living room, “I’d tell the bad guy everything, without even thinking about it,” he chuckled as he chewed, “I’m such a pussy …”

Both friends sat side by side on a large beige couch, surrounded by pizza boxes and empty bottles of beer.

Nico had his size nine socked feet crossed at the ankle and propped on the coffee table, whilst Michael sat squashed into the corner in the cross legged position.

Shining beads of sweat rolled down Bonds panicked face as a glass syringe neared his left eye, the scarred villain now grinning as he whispers into James’ ear …

“… This is your last chance, Bond … Give me the password, or you can say goodbye to your lover, and your eye sight! …”

Nico cringed as an evil cackle followed, the camera darting away from a bound Bond where it shot suddenly to a busty blonde who dangled in chains, kicking and screaming over a pool of feisty piranha’s.

“Can’t we just watch my American Horror Stories episode?” Nico turned to face Michael, “This sucks.”

Michael fingered through his bowl of popcorn with one hand, whilst his other hand held his iPhone to his lips.

“Hey, siri …” A green glowing circle appeared at the bottom of Michael’s iPhone screen, “… What is the best way to get someone to say ‘uncle’ …?”

Nico scoffed and rolled his eyes, “I’m getting another beer …”

As he swung his feet off the coffee table and made his way towards the apartment kitchen, scratching his left ass cheek and only wearing some baggy Adidas track pants, Michael peered down over his iPhone whilst throwing another bundle of popcorn into his mouth.

Siri responded to Michael in her standard robotic, monotone voice.

>Ways to get someone to say ‘uncle’: Chinese burn: an act of placing both hands on a person's arm and then twisting it to produce a burning sensation. Alternatively, resting your weight over your component during a wrestling match. Alternatively, ti—<

Michael tapped his thumb over Siri’s glowing presence, silencing her entirely, as soon as she arrived at a method that intrigued him the most.

Nico returned with two beers.

He fell back into the couch with a huff and handed a bottle to Michael.

“Is he dead yet?” Nico nodded at the television.

“I’m going to make you say ‘uncle’ …” Michael declared with a grin.

Nico sipped his beer.

“Impossible,” he wiped away a fizzle of foam from his top lip, “It’s not part of my nature. I’m not built that way,” he announced confidently.

Michael sat up in interest, sipping his beer, placing his bowl of popcorn to the side.

“Okay, here we go, so, your fingernails are torn off slowly, one by one … You’re not saying ‘uncle’ …?”

Nico shook his head.

“Nope.”

Michael playfully punched his friend on the shoulder.

“Alright! You’re tied to a chair and a drop of water lands on your head, every ten seconds, over …” Michael searched the ceiling for a realistic time, “… six days! Without any food or dr—”

“—I’m not saying uncle—”, Nico smirked into the neck of his beer bottle as James Bond broke free from his restraints and elbowed the villain in the face.

Michael felt excitement bubble within his chest as a one of a kind, unique challenge presented itself.

“Will you let me at least try to get you to say ‘uncle’, today?” He sat on his knees, his right hand running through his long length of hair, “I can do it, I know I can.”

Nico paused for a moment as he weighed up the ways he could make Michael’s suggestion work to his advantage.

“If I don’t say ‘uncle’, which, by the way, is the outcome of the evening … You’re taking the trash out for the rest of the week,” he turned to his friend and offered him a flirtatious look by glancing at Michael’s mouth, and then into his eyes.

Michael could feel himself blushing.

He shook his fluster away and then, rather suddenly, raised the stakes without even intending to.

“No, man, come, come on,” he tutted, “That’s such a lame thing to fight for …” he stroked his jaw and looked into his bowl of popcorn, an eager smile lifting his lips, “You say ‘uncle’ … And you’re paying all of next months rent. You don’t, and the bill is on me.”

Nico shot up from the couch.

The wall to ceiling windows that looked out into Brooklyn shed light over his muscular torso, the flashes of the action scene taking place behind him framing his broad shoulders, slim waist and juicy bubble butt contained within his track pants.

He extended his right hand.

Michael snatched hold of Nico’s hand and shook it firmly.

Together, they both said one word that officially secured their agreement, in unison:

“Deal.”

“No funny stuff, alright?” Nico warned, as Michael knotted his left wrist to the left wooden bed banister.

Michael crawled over Nico’s lap and began to secure his right wrist to the right wooden bed banister.

“You know what your New Years resolution should be? … ” He made sure the knot was extra tight, “… Getting over yourself…”

Nico shaped his mouth into an ‘O’ and used his right foot to kick out at his friend.

“Ohh, he’s sassy tonight!” Nico’s foot dropped freely onto the mattress with a bounce as Michael dodged the swipe, “So, what are you gonna do, throw shade at me till I say it?” Nico winked.

“My shade is top tier,” Michael crawled back over Nico’s lap, but this time he stayed there, “However, I’m gonna need something a little more powerful to get you to say ‘uncle’ …”

Nico raised his eyebrows as he took in the sight of his topless friend now straddling his waist.

“I said no funny stuff …” Nico sat casually with his back against the headboard, his arms loosely restrained either side of him, “… This feels like funny stuff …” he naturally curled his hands around the wooden dividers behind his head, “… You know funny stuff doesn’t happen between you and I anym—gaaa—AAH!—”

Without warning, Michael threw all ten of his fingers into Nico’s armpits; five into his left, five into his right, where he actioned an aggressive and sudden tickle, his fingers burrowing and scribbling deep into the sweaty depths of Nico’s underarms.

Nico erupted into an alarming state of manic and unexpected laughter; his heels dug into the bedsheets, his wrists automatically pulled at his restraints, his biceps bulged, he arched his back and tried to throw Michael off of him, but Michael stubbornly sank his weight over his friends hips, leaving Nico in a pinned position where he had no choice but to endure the exceptionally high level of sensory overload taking place in an area he had no idea would be touched.

“Oh, oh my god! Alright, stop, oh my god!” Nico clenched his teeth into a tight grin as he shook his head and tried to buck Michael off of him again, trying once, twice, three times, however Michael remained firmly in place, “Michael! Michael! Oh my god, stop, stop it, come on!” He huffed.

Michael bit his upper lip in focus as he tightened his thighs around Nico’s waist and continued to wiggle his fingers forcefully into the moist crevasses of Nico’s armpits.

“Go on, say it, Greetham, say it and I’ll stop…” He growled.

“O, o, okay, al, alright!” Nico shot a look of disbelief down to his right armpit, then down to his left, his giggling high pitched and squeal-ish as he did what he had to do, to make the tickling stop, “—UNCLE!—” he cried, “—Uncle, uncle, uncle!—” He repeated breathlessly.

Michael’s fingers slid out from Nico’s armpits as he fell into Nico’s torso, both young friends now laughing at the same time as Nico panted and slumped into the headboard.

“That was so easy!” Michael chuckled into Nico’s chest, “Damn! You lasted like, fifteen seconds!”

Once Nico had controlled his giggling, he ran his tongue across the roof of his mouth and shrugged Michael off of him.

“Yeah, okay, alright, you win, fuck …” he inhaled deeply and then exhaled through flared nostrils, “… Holy shit, that was intense, man! Never do that to me again …”

Michael peeled his face away from Nico’s bare chest.

He sat back and eyed Nico’s arms, the rope around his wrists, the fact that his friend was tied to his bed, ticklish as hell, with nowhere to go …

“… Michael …” Nico’s tone lowered as he scowled at his housemate, “… Don’t you dare …”

Michael’s grin was so large and wide that his bright white teeth practically glowed.

“What?” He extended his right index finger and poked it gently into Nico’s left side, “What should I not do, Nico?”

Nico jolted into himself and bit his lower lip.

“Michael!”

“What, you think I’m gonna let you go, because you said it once?” Michael poked into Nico’s right side.

Nico jolted into himself once again, this time a heavy grunt bursting out of his lips.

“Michael! I swear to god!” Nico began to giggle in bewilderment as Michael now jabbed at his left row of ribs, then at his right, taking it in turns with each jab, causing Nico to jump from one side of the bed to the other, his arms still tightly pinned into place, “Michael, no, stop! Stop it, holy shit, man! What are you doing!”

“I thought you would never say it,” Michael ordered, “You seemed pretty adamant, earlier on …” Michael wiggled his fingers across Nico’s sides, where he journeyed them across his abs, “Come on, Nico, say it!” He teased.

Nico did not hesitate; he threw his head across his chest and boiled a worried stare into his stomach as his friends fingernails dragged across his tummy, “Oh my god, Michael, you son of a bitch! Uncle! Uncle! There, I said it, uncle! I give, I give, I give!—” He whined, his body twisting to the right as Michael began to pinch, poke and jab around his hips and waist, “Oh my god, stop it, Michael, quit it, stop it, stop it!”

Nico tugged on his wrist restraints, his fingers flexing as he attempted to pull his hands through the loop of red rope around each wrist, but the more he yanked the tighter the loop became.

Michael, sensing a wave of panic from his friends desperate attempts to escape, slowed down his touch where it eventually arrived at Nico’s shoulders.

“This is the most fun I’ve had in a while,” Michael chuckled, squeezing Nico’s shoulders before slinking off the mattress, where he crawled across the carpet and travelled down to the foot of the bed, “Lets see if you can take it, on your feet …”

Nico, puffing and panting as he shook chunks of blonde away from his face, planted both of his feet firmly over the bedsheets, concealing his socked soles entirely.

“Michael! Seriously? Stop it! This is crazy!” He scrunched up his toes, some of the bedsheets catching beneath them as he did so, “Let me outta these, man!” He tugged at the rope once more, “Come on, Michael, you’ve had your fun!” He began to giggle again, without even being touched, as he watched Michael kneel down by his left socked foot, where he began to try and claw it away from the bed by grabbing at his toes, “No! Ss, ssss, sto-oh-oh-oh-oh-ahaha-ahaha-ahahap it, I mean it, for, for real, man, come on!”

Michael used all of his strength to grab Nico’s left ankle, lifting it up from the bed, groaning with all of his might as he tucked it in a secure armlock, his body thrown forwards and backwards as Nico began to rampantly kick his leg.

“Michael!” Nico grunted, “Michael!” He sounded genuinely alarmed, “—Michael!—” The ropes binding his wrists to the bed squeaked as he pulled at them, “I said it, man! Why you gotta hear it again? No, man, don’t touch my feet, no, don’t take off my socks, man! I hate that! Michael! Michael. Michael? No, no, no—”

—Michael pinched at the sock gathered around Nico’s toes, swiftly and effortlessly removing the thick, white, cotton material, therefore suddenly exposing Nico’s bare foot; his toes flexed, the top of his foot rubbing against Michael’s chest as it tried to pull through his armlock, more strained and dumbfounded giggles leaving Nico’s throat as Michaels’ fingertips arrived at the squirming limb.

“—Michael! Michael, Michael, come on, stop it!—”

Michael scribbled over the bottom of Nico’s left foot with all five of his fingernails, their scratch starting at the heel where they then worked up to Nico’s arch and then towards the base of his toes.

Nico thrashed behind Michael, his cries put on pause as he giggled and laughed with such strength that his expel had started to sound like aggressive shouts; he was loud, his hysteria uncontrollable, his strong, muscular leg kicking and pulling the hardest he could allow it as Michael danced his fingernails over the sole of his left foot.

“Oh damn!” Michael watched Nico’s toes scrunch and curl, the more he infiltrated their betweens, “You really can’t stand this, can you!” Michael could not quite believe how flexy, how soft, how sensitive the foot in his armlock was, “You can say it again, Greetham, I’m more than happy to hear you say it for a third time …”

Nico had squirmed so hard that he now lay flat on the bed, his torso thrashing from left to right, his arms pinned above him, his pits now entirely on show as his wide eyed stare burned into Michael’s back, his jaw stretching open, his giggles and laughter non stop, his shouts no longer arriving in the form of senseless babbled words, but stern and solid ‘uncles’ on repeat, “—Ohahahahahahaa UNCLE! Ohahahahahaha UNCLE! Oahahahahahahahaahahahahaha UNCLE!—” Nico felt so overwhelmed by his sudden circumstance that he had resorted to using his free right socked foot to kick into the bottom of Michael’s spine, where he slammed his heel against Michael’s back until Michael would have no choice but to release him.

Considering Nico’s brawn, Michael could only take three kicks in total before he winced, dropped Nico’s foot out of his arm lock and then stumbled away from the bed, hissing in pain, his hand reaching down to the bottom of his back where he rubbed it better.

“Jesus, Greetham! You’re one ticklish mother fucker!” He declared.

Nico’s feet landed on the bed with a bounce.

He lay there breathless and flustered, his cheeks pink, his legs spread, his hands dangling from the rope around each wrist, his left foot naked, his right foot socked.

“Li, listen, Michael, if, if you keep tickling me, I swear to god,” Nico chuckled and shook his head, “I swear to god, Cimino, I’ll scream so loud the neighbours will hear …” he shuffled back up to a seated position, “… Let me go, you little bitch! I mean it, you keep tickling me and I will fucking scream so fucking loud that you’ll—” Nico blinked, “—Wait, what, what are you—” he pressed his lips shut and grunted hard, as soon as he saw Michael pick up a third piece of rope from his climbing kit, where he quickly looped it around Nico’s left ankle, “—Hey! Michael, NO—” he growled, pulling his left foot towards his chest, but Michael held onto the length of rope with both hands and yanked Nico’s leg down to the left corner of the bed, “—Michael, you little bitch! You little pervert, what are you do—no, wait, come on!—” where he then secured it to the foot of the bed in a tight knot.

As Michael made his way to Nico’s right foot, Nico heaved in deep and then shouted out a panicked, “—HELP, SOMEONE! I’M BEING CAPTURED, CALL THE POLICE!—” his face aimed at the open window, both he and Michael struggling to contain their boyish giggles as Michael scrambled to take hold of Nico’s right ankle, his leg kicking out and swinging through the air as laughter filled the room.

Nico knew this was one big joke to Michael - he knew how harmless tickling was, how much fun Michael was having with him - the entire ordeal felt mindless and comedic, whilst at the same time horrifying and torturous …

As Michael finally took hold of Nico’s right leg and began to loop rope around his ankle, Nico wondered if Michael was actually going to tickle him all afternoon long, if he actually had the guts to action something so extraordinary - such a thought process caused Nico to reach his mouth up to the rope looped around his left wrist, where he started to try and bite his way out of his predicament.

“No, no way,” Nico spoke with his teeth nipping at the knot, “I’m not letting you do this,” he snarled, the rope refusing to come loose, “You’re not gonna just tie me up and fucking … Tickle torture me! You little bitch!—”, he giggled through the biting, realising his attempts were failing miserably, before giving his right wrist a go, “—Grrrraghh! Michael! Graaaaghh, Michael! Mnn, mnn!—”

—Suddenly, Nico’s mouth was taken away from the rope when Michael pulled at his leg, causing Nico to slide out of the seated position, where he was forced to instead lay flat on his back.

Michael knotted the rope and then stood back as Nico squirmed in his bondage, his arms and legs kicking and pulling with all of his athletic strength as he pressed his lips shut and writhed across the sheets for at least thirty seconds, before he huffed, sighed and then lay still.

A beat of silence filled the bedroom as the air grew warm and muggy.

“Quite the turn of events, huh, Nico?” Michael tucked his hands into his jean pockets, “I gotta say, I kinda love how ticklish you are … It’s so much fun, man! Are you having fun?”

Nico stared into the ceiling and gave Michael the thumbs up, “Time of my life, man …” he spoke in a monotone mumble, causing Michael to chuckle into the back of his hand.

“I still can’t believe you said ‘uncle’ so soon, dude, you must be hella ticklish …”

Nico scowled at Michael as he threw his head over his chest, “You know I am, man! You know how much I can’t stand being tickled!” He dropped his head over the pillow in a defeated bounce, “—Come on, man, do, do something else, anything else! … I can’t do this, being—” he groaned as he clenched his fists and pulled at the rope once again, “—being fucking, strung up and tickled like this! You have no idea, man! Do something else, anything else! Oh, I know!” He nodded down at his torso, “Play around with my nipples, I remember how much you liked that, right? Yeah! Play around with my damn nipples, they’re not that ticklish but, but I know you had a thing for nip—”

“—Nope,” Michael paced around the bed as he took in the sight of Nico tied to his mattress, “I’ve got a better idea … “

Nico lifted his head slowly.

“You, you do?” He could not hide the nerves in his voice, “Wh, what’s that?”

Michael stopped pacing and folded his arms across his chest as he looked down at his friend.

“We’re gonna play a little game,” he announced.

The toes of Nico’s right foot curled within the warmth of his sock as the bare toes of his left foot curled also, his head twisting from side to side, his face still presenting a look of utter disbelief.

One minute he sat slouched on the sofa with his best friend, watching a movie, drinking beers and eating pizza …

The next he lay tied to his bed, tickled and embarrassed, with the same rope Michael used to go climbing with.

“Can I at least get a glass of water!” Nico called out to the open door.

Some foot steps, some shuffling, some drawers opening and closing and a few slammed doors later, Michael returned with one arm around a medium sized cardboard box and an open bottle of beer in his other hand.

Nico peered down to the bottom of the bed as Michael placed the box over the floor.

He then walked towards Nico and held the beer out to his mouth.

“Just untie me and let me drink it myself …” Nico glared over the bottle and up at Michael, his voice grainy and stern.

Michael grinned and tipped the beer bottle against Nico’s lips, causing some foam to bubble at the neck of the bottle, where the fizzy liquid spilled all over Nico’s jaw and neck.

“Michael!” Nico whined, his mouth trying to catch as much of the beer as possible, “You’re seriously the worst!” He spat, his chest now shimmering with booze.

Michael placed the beer at the bedside table.

“Okay,” he went back to the foot of the bed and knelt down beside his cardboard box, “Let’s see how ticklish you really are …”

Nico bounced his head over the pillow in frustration as he giggled out his annoyance and shock, “Michael! We get it, I’m ticklish, I’m one of the most ticklish guys I know!—” he threw his head over his chest as he felt Michael pinch at the tuft of sock gathered around the toes of his right foot, “Hey! Ssst, stop it!” He protested, his toes scrunching up tightly in an attempt to catch at the sock as Michael began to tug it away from his foot, now exposing his heel, “Michael! Michael, stop it! I’m too ticklish for this, man! Come on, this is not cool …” he winced as the sock left the tips of his toes, his blue eyes watching the sock hurtle through the air as Michael threw it over his shoulder, “… Damn …” Nico tutted.

“This so beats watching movies all day,” Michael rubbed his palms together in excitement, his tongue trailing over the edges of his top row of teeth, “Okay, so …” he reached into the cardboard box and pulled out two cups he had taken from the kitchen, “… In each cup are five—”

“—Michael!” Nico raised his voice, his muscular arms and thick, bulky legs pulling harder at the rope binding him to the bed, “Mnn! Are you even listening to me? I’m not doing this! I’m not doing this, alright?” Once again, strained giggles left Nico’s throat as he widened his eyes and sent an urgent look down at his friend, “I’ll pass the fuck out if you’re gonna keep tickling me, man, I mean it, I—”

“—No, that’s the whole point …” Michael picked up his iPhone and pointed at the screen, “… This game I found online, it’s from a website literally called ‘Uncle’, and it has tonnes of fun ideas on there and shit … This one is called ‘Luck of The Draw’ … You may get an easy ride, man! Or …” Michael lifted his shoulders and raised both eyebrows, “You might have a super tough time … It depends on what numbers you pick …” he licked his lips and fingered the toes of Nico’s right foot, a foot just inches away from him, as a way of teaching him a lesson, “… You might calm the fuck down, if you give me a chance to explain …”

Nico’s right foot twisted under Michael’s touch, his toes pointing down to the bedsheets where he tried to stretch his leg away from Nico’s index finger.

“—Mnn!—” He pressed his lips shut, “—Alright, alright, get on with it, man!” He sighed as Michael’s finger slid away, his threat mumbled under his breath, “Just remember, payback’s a b—”

—Michael placed both cups side by side on the carpet.

“—Okay, where was I …” he combed his fingers through the contents of the left cup, his brown eyes glancing up at Nico, “In each cup are five tiny, folded bits of paper,” he picked up the left cup and presented it to Nico, “In here, they’re labelled from one to five …” he then picked up the right cup, “… And in here they’re labelled from six to ten …” He placed both cups back on the floor, “… You’ll be asked, by me, the host,” he planted his palm across his bare chest, “… To pick a number from each cup. I’ll open up both numbered pieces of paper and then? Well, your choice decides your tickle fate … Alright?”

Nico narrowed his eyes into the bedroom ceiling as he thought through Michael’s explanation.

“Okay, so,” he huffed, “There’s five rounds of this shit?” He curled his fingers around the rope looped over each wrist, “And, do I …” he chuckled into his chest, his eyebrows burrowing into a creased frown, “ … I can’t believe I’m about to ask you this, but, do I get a safe word …?”

Michael straightened his back, his smile wide and bright, “Yes, you do!” He resisted the urge to toy with Nico’s right foot again, “Can you guess what it is?” He asked, his tone light and playful.

Nico smirked as he glanced past hardening nipples, at his friend seated on the floor like some kid having the time of his life with a new action figure.

“Lemme guess …” Nico rolled his eyes away from Michael, “… Uncle … ?”

Michael clapped his hands together once.

“You got it, handsome!”

Nico felt a blush arrive over his cheeks at a nickname Michael used to call him all the time, back when they —

“—And what if I say it? You stop tickling me, and you—”

“—If you say it, I stop, and five minutes gets added on to the next round … ” Michael explained, much to Nico’s despair, “What two numbers are you picking first, blue eyes?”

Nico avoided Michael’s gaze as that blush grew stronger.

“Uhh …” he cleared his throat and turned his face towards the window, “Number one? Aaaaand … Uh …” he felt his eyes sting at the bright shine beaming onto the bed, lighting his athletic, tanned frame as he lay in a bound starfish, “… Number six, I guess?” He wished he did not sound so uncertain.

Michael smirked and picked out a folded up piece labelled number one from the left cup, where he then picked out a folded up piece labelled number six from the right cup.

“Uh oh!” Michael stroked his chin as he took in his own handwriting, “Okay, alright … Number one says ‘fingers’ and number six says, ‘armpits, five minutes non stop’ …”

Nico threw his head over his chest so quickly that his jaw almost cramped.

“What the fuck? Five minutes non stop?—” He did not blink, he did not move, he simply glared at the open folds of paper in each of Michael’s hands, “You’re kidding me, right? Michael, I’m not gonna be able to take that …”

Nico began to squirm over the bedsheets as he watched Michael get to his feet.

“Cootchie cootchie cooooo!” Michael teased, his hands shaping out into wiggling claws as he climbed back onto the bed, his right leg reaching over Nico’s waist, where he sat down over his hips in a comfortable straddle, “I’m coming for you, Nicooooo!”

Nico’s face became saturated in panic; he dug his heels into the corner of the bed, he bent his knees, he flexed out his fingers and he began to gasp and pant as he watched Michael’s wiggling fingers near his underarms, inch by inch, second by second.

“Michael,” Nico grunted, “Hey, go, go easy, man, come on!” He shot a worried look down to his right armpit, “No, don’t do it, hey!” He then shot a worried look down to his right armpit, “Did you set a timer, man? You didn’t set a timer, you little bitch! Hey, stop it, come on …” he widened his eyes as Michael’s fingers finally arrived at his pits, where they began to action a gradual tickle, their long, brown lengths curling and combing gently through the soft blonde tufts that made up Nico’s armpit hair.

Nico could just about handle it; he closed his mouth and giggled breathlessly, his giggles caught between his nose and throat as he shot glances of eye widening shock to each armpit, non stop.

His head twisted from side to side with such speed that his neck began to throb, his legs kicking with such force and his back arching with such might that Michael found himself lifting a metre or so up into the air.

“Ride ‘em cowboy!” Michael cheered, his fingers now increasing in pressure as their tips made impact with the warm flesh in the very centre of each of Nico’s underarms.

“—Mnn!—” Nico’s biceps enlarged as his fists pulled at the rope around his wrists, his fingers stretching out, his hands turning into his chest, as if he thought he might be able to grab or catch Michael’s touch, “—Mnn, mnn, mnn! Mnn! Mnn! Mnn! Mnn! Mnn, mnn, mnn!—” Nico continued to keep his giggles behind lips pressed together tightly, as a way of controlling his reactions, even if he did so desperately want to howl out and cry into the bedroom ceiling, “—Mnn! Mnn! Mnn, mnnnn, mn, mn, mn, mn!—”

“Two minutes done …” Michael kept his eyes on Nico’s iPhone screen, laid out beside his beer bottle, ensuring that he stayed true to the time and the rules, after all, the captee beneath his thighs was not only just an ex fling, but he was now a good friend and housemate too, “… You’re almost half way through, Nico!”

Nico spat out a heavy expel of laughter, the further Michael’s fingers entered his pits, “—PAH! PAH, HA!—” he gasped and pressed his body into the mattress, a whiny groan leaving his throat as his nostrils flared and his face squashed up against his collar bone, his eyes taking in the sight of Michael’s fingers as they scribbled through his armpit hair, “—Oh my god, Michael!—” Nico shook his head in despair, “—This fucking sucks, man!—” he heaved in and chuckled out a deep bellow, his laughter gaining momentum the harder Michael tickled, “—Oh shit, oh fuck, stop it! Ahhhh my gaaaaah—ahahah-ahahaha-ahahaha-ahaha-ahahahaa-ahahahaaaad stop, please! Hahahahahahahahahaa oh this is fucking torture, man!—” he bit his upper lip and glared into Michael’s stomach as his torso twisted to the left and then thrashed with such force to the right that the bed beneath them wobbled, “—Oh god, oh my god, Michael! Michael! Michael! Stop it, stopit, stopit, ahahahahahaha please, ahahahahahahaha stop, ahahahahahahaha no!—” Nico tumbled into a state of non stop, manic laughter, his giggles and bellows leaving his lips unapologetically and uncontrollably, their pitch high, their arrival loud and commanding, Nico’s breathlessness now informing Michael he was struggling to breathe as his underarms were tickled so relentlessly, “—Aaaaahahahahahahahahaha oh oh ohmygodyougottastopIcan’ttakeitohgodpleasethisistoomuch!—” Nico cried all at once, the end of his plea sounding like he had used every ounce of energy contained within his body, before heaving it all back in, all at once, ready to expel the same amount again …

“A minute and a half left!” Michael announced, his fingers leaving the very depths of Nico’s pits to instead tickle up towards his biceps and then down to his pecs, making sure he covered the full expanse of each of Nico’s underarms, his fingers now digging instead of stroking, causing Nico to erupt with the same amount of vigour he had erupted with when Michael and unexpectedly sent all ten fingers in without warning, at the start of this insane attempt to get him to say ‘uncle’, a word he had now said multiple times already …

Nico thrashed over the bedsheets, his body writhing and bucking with such animated robustness that Michael almost found himself being thrown against the wall behind the headboard; his laughter was astonishing, it was non stop and provided without breath between, and if there were any kind of breath it was quick and gasp-ish, his eyes now watering as he bounced around as if Michael’s touch electrocuted him, “—Aaaaaah hahahahahaha ahahahahaha ahahahaha yougottastopIcan’tbreathe!—” Nico was a muscular guy - his weight caused the bed to creak and the banisters to squeak as the ropes tied to each corner just about contained his athletic shape, “—MichaelMichaelohohohohMichael!—” Nico had now laughed so hard his already structured abs defined themselves with a sharper shape, “—-MichaelyougottastopitIcan’ttakethis!—”, his chest bulged and his neck looked full with volume, his body trying its best to roll from Michael’s fingers in a speedy spin, until finally, Michael stopped tickling him.

“Five minutes!” Michael’s fingers clawed away from Nico’s armpits, where they rested palm down over a chest now beginning to glisten with sweat, as Nico lay flabbergasted and direly worn out.

For a few seconds, Nico was completely speechless; his mouth hung open, his tongue caught between his teeth, his vision a little blurred as he focused on catching his breath, the lift and drop of his tummy causing Michael to also lift and drop, where he remained straddling Nico’s waist.

Michael reached over to the bedside table and picked up the bottle of beer.

He tipped some booze into Nico’s mouth, allowing Nico to guzzle down a fair amount of glugs, this time not caring that some of the beer spilled over his neck.

Michael placed the beer back over the bedside table.

“How was that?” He asked, un-straddling Nico as he did so.

Nico licked his lips and closed his eyes, breathing in slowly, before exhaling out in the form of a whistle.

“… I’ve never been tickled like that before,” he admitted, chuckling to himself as he tried to lean into this unasked for set up, this one of a kind moment between he and his friend, “I, I’ll be honest, I, I was pretty close to saying ‘uncle’ …” he revealed, his head glancing over his chest as he watched Michael return to the box, “… Damnit, Michael! You’re such a good tickler, man! You’re fucking merciless, with your freakishly long mother fucking fingers!”

Michael pursed his lips as he checked his own fingers out, “You know, you’re right, they are kinda long. Pretty perfect, for a game like this!”

Nico continued to pant as he rubbed some sweat away from his nose by smearing it across his shoulder.

“Lemme catch my breath a sec,” Nico requested, “You’re such a little bitch,” he smirked, “Ya know, I’m sure people would pay a lot of money to do this kinda thing to me, an you get it for free, you lucky little …”

Michael sat back down by both cups.

“Oh don’t get it twisted, I’m aware of how lucky I am …” he held the cups in the air, reminding Nico of what he needed to do, “… The real question is, how lucky are you?”

Nico’s weight relaxed over bedsheets now creased as he eyed the cup to the left and then the cup to the right whilst still trying to steady his breath.

“I’m gonna go in order,” Nico, once again, just like how he tried to hold back his giggles, persisted in maintaining some sense of control, “Number two … Aaaaannnnnd …” Nico closed his eyes and rested his head over the pillow, speaking in a flustered murmur, “… Number eight.”

Michael smiled at the sight of Nico taking on the challenge, instead of providing hesitation.

There were no more uhhhms, no more pleas to be untied, just a confident willingness to get the job done and please Michael, even if Michael had exploited him in a way he had not predicted.

Michael fingered through the left cup, picking out a second piece of paper, “Okay, number two … Electric toothbrush …” he then picked out another piece of paper from the right cup, as he felt Nico stiffen in his restraints at the sound of the words, “… Thighs … Three minutes. Challenge is?” Michael adopted a tone as sinister as the Bond villain they were watching over thirty minutes ago, “… You must not move …”

To Michael’s surprise, Nico did not seem too alarmed by this second round; the blonde hunk narrowed his eyes and compartmentalised the upcoming ordeal with a sparkle in his glare as he watched Michael over his chest, “Oooo-kay,” he purred, “I think I can take that …” he then spread his legs apart and curled his toes, readying himself for the electric toothbrush, when, quite suddenly, Michael did something he seemed to be getting used to doing, if the events of the past half hour were to go by - Michael did the unexpected.

Michael stood, reached across the bed and grabbed the waistband of Nico’s track pants.

He then yanked them down to his knees.

Nico threw his head forwards with such speed that the front chunks of his hair landed over his eyes, “Michael!” He gasped, his large bulge and tight white briefs suddenly exposed, “Oh my god!” He once again found himself lost for words as his bare, muscular thighs were revealed, “Pull those back fucking UP! Jesus, man! What! What if I wasn’t wearing underwear, huh? That would’ve been—” Nico titled his head and offered Michael a menacing glare, “—Pfffft, no, mnn—” Nico grunted as he watched Michael try to pull the track pants over his knees, but they would not stretch that way, due to how far apart his legs were bound, “—Pull them back up, pull them back up!”

It became very clear, after a few seconds of silence, that Michael would not be pulling Nico’s track pants back up.

Instead, he fingered through the cardboard box and picked out his own electric toothbrush, taken from the bathroom at the other side of the apartment.

“Okay,” Michal switched the electric toothbrush on, —Click! Bzzzzzzzz … — “So,” he knelt on the floor, at the middle of the bottom section of the bed, where he reached forwards with his new tickle tool, the vibrating bristles and their buzzing whizz aimed directly at the inside of Nico’s left thigh, “Remember, you’re not allowed to move …” He grinned with excitement as he watched Nico shake hair away from his face and focus his eyes into the ceiling, the electric toothbrushes tip about to make impact with the muscle between his knee and bulge, “… If you fail, another five minutes gets added to round three …”

Nico winced as the electric toothbrush arrived at his flesh.

“—Mnn!—” it took almost every fibre of his being to not pull his knees into each other, to not kick his legs, to not jolt and jump back, “—Are you, mnn! Are you making this shit up as you, mnn! Go along?—” Nico ran his tongue over the roof of his mouth as Michael journeyed the electric toothbrush over the top of his thigh and then down to his right kneecap, a gentle load of grainy giggles now leaving his mouth as his right thigh fell victim to the sharp vibration currently exploring his skin …

“—Michael!—” he shrieked, the electric toothbrush now hopping over to Nico’s left thigh, which appeared to be far more ticklish, “—Michael! Michael! Michael! Michael!—” Nico kept shouting Michael’s name in a high pitched squeal as his eyes began to water and his hands curled into trembling, tight fists, “—Mnn! Mnn! Uhh! Uhhh! Mi, Mi, Michael! This is killing me!—” Nico stayed as still as a statue, apart from the way his body seemed to vibrate along with the electric toothbrush, “—This is harder than I thought!—” he admitted, all ten of his toes splayed out into a panicked flex, his five foot eight frame fixed in the star fish position, rigid and stiff, his eyes unblinking and his legs pressing firmly against the mattress as Michael took the electric toothbrush between Nico’s thighs, “—Michael! Michael! Stop it!—”

Nico’s legs nudged closer together, just for a second, as Michael arrived at a highly sensitive spot on Nico’s body.

“Ohhh,” Michael licked his lips, “Does that tickle, Nico?” He kept the electric toothbrush between Nico’s thighs, running it in a circular motion across his bulge, “You almost moved, then …”

Nico scowled down at Michael, “—ofcourseitfuckingtickles!—” he spat, a breathy moan leaving his mouth as he giggled into the humid air, his mind willing the seconds to fly by, “—Oh my god, stopit, stopit—” he winced and hissed as the electric toothbrush whizzed down the muscle of his left thigh, just as the cock stuffed behind his briefs began to swell, “—Seriously, Michael, it’s been three minutes, I swear to god! Stop it, come on!—”

“—If you want it to stop, just say ‘uncle’ …” Michael urged, “… You’ve still got a minute to go …”

Nico went to shake his head, “—Mnn!—”, but that would, of course, be classed as a movement. Instead, he breathed in, “—HUFF—”, and took all of the oxygen between cheeks that now bulged out of his face, his mouth creased into a tiny dot as he glared into the right side of the bed, “—MNN—”, his left thigh now the fleshy landscape currently explored by the electric toothbrush as Michael travelled it over the muscles, the shapes, the groves and the line that made up the beauty that was Nico’s well built, hairy left leg.

Michael cackled as he watched Nico’s face boil pink, the veins at the side of his head throb, the blonde chunks of hair littering his glazed over eyes tassled and messy, “Five … Four … Three …” Michael took the electric toothbrush down Nico’s left thigh, “… Two, one!”

Where he then hopped it away and switched it off.

Bzzzzz — click!

“—PUFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTT—” Nico expelled the contained air in one long, steady sigh, some droplets of spit blown out past his lips as his chest dropped and his body sank into the mattress.

He kicked and squirmed, threw himself across the bed, pulled at the rope and released all of the energy he had withheld over the past one hundred and eighty seconds.

Michael raised both eyebrows and watched his friends release as he carefully placed the electric toothbrush back into the cardboard box.

“You’re doing pretty good, so far, Nico,” he reached between Nico’s thighs and rubbed the itchiness away from his legs with the firmness of his palms, “There, is that better?”

Nico giggled and twisted his legs, flapping them apart as he shot a playful look down at Michael.

“Get your hands offa me, you little bitch!”

Michael narrowed his eyes, “Oh, still calling me names, huh?” His hands tickled down Nico’s legs and jumped towards the bottoms of his feet, “You wanna know who’s the real bitch? Huh? Is that what you wanna do?”

Nico thrashed across the sheets and threw his body forwards as Michael’s fingernails arrived at his soles.

“—Michael! Michael, no!—” he tried to stretch his feet away from Michael’s touch, “—Just play the game! Just play the game!—”

Nico sank into the bed as Michael left his feet alone and picked up the left cup.

“—Damn—” Nico endured a moment of self realisation, “—I hate having my feet tickled …” he declared.

Michael waved the cup in the air.

“Oh,” Nico squeezed his eyes shut, “Uh, sticking to my routine … Number three and …” he opened his right eye but kept the left shut, “… Number nine …”

Michael picked out the requested bits of paper from each cup.

His eyelashes fluttered shut as he poked his tongue out, his hands unpicking the first piece of paper.

“What did you just say, about your feet?”

Nico shuffled up the bed.

He planted his soles down over the mattress, the best his ankle restraints would allow.

“Stop it …”

Michael unpicked the second piece.

“Go on, Nico. Say it out loud …”

Nico hung his head over his chest.

He spoke in a heavy, disappointed tone.

“… I hate having my feet tickled? …”

Michael lifted his shoulders and presented the handwriting over both unfolded bits of paper to Nico.

Nico’s blue eyes darted from left to right as he read out the words.

“Hairbrush … Left foot … “ he raised his voice into a surprised shout, “… FIVE MINUTES?—”

Michael dropped the bits of paper and picked the hairbrush from out of the cardboard box, where he once again transformed his voice from sweet and cheeky to sinister and evil, much like the Bond villain who had appeared at the start of their afternoon.

“Things are about to get a little intense, Mr Bond …”

Nico pursed his lips.

“I dunno,” he shrugged, “I think that’s just gonna hurt …”

Michael eyed the brush with interest.

“Only one way to find out …”

Without warning, he grabbed Nico’s left big toe and peeled his sole away from the bedsheets.

Nico bent his knees and huffed as he took in the sight of Michael swiping the plastic bristles of the hairbrush across the bottom of his left foot.

“—GAH!—”

Nico’s leg jerked so hard that Michael lost grip of his big toe.

“—N, no, wait—” Nico rolled his eyes to the back of his head and smiled calmly, “—That … Is disgusting—” he proclaimed.

Both young men tumbled into a fit of spirited laughter, at Nico’s overdramatic use of the word ‘disgusting’.

Once they had regained their posture, Michael looked over the bed and caught Nico’s concerned gaze.

“That’s quite the description!” He chuckled, “Is it that bad?”

Nico shook his fists, “Oh? Man? You wanna give this a go and find out?” The bed wobbled beneath his muscular yet short frame.

Michael ran his hand over the surface of the hairbrush, “Hmm, maybe some other time …”

As he took in the feeling of the plastic nibs pressing against his palm, he realised how much he loved how accessible all of the required tools were; they were either casually located in his bedroom or his bathroom, or they belonged to his body, such as his fingers and their tormenting strength.

For Michael, acting all of this out and inflicting this mischievous game on his unsuspecting friend was not only far easier than he thought it would be, but it was far funner than he dared to admit.

“You okay down there?” Nico asked, his tone genuinely concerned at the sight of Michael having a quiet moment to himself.

Michael blinked.

“Never better,” he smiled, his eyes falling down to Nico’s left foot, “Hey, I uh … I wanna try something …” He opened his mouth, but before he moved any further, he glanced up at Nico’s face, “… Can I … Try something?”

Nico gestured to the restraints binding him, where he then smirked at Michael.

“Haven’t you already tried enough?” He scoffed.

Michael lowered his head, his cheeks flushing red as Nico shed light on how unapologetically brazen Michael had been in regards to capturing him.

A beat of silence filled the bedroom.

“I’m joking …” Nico reassured, his words breaking the awkward quiet as he added a sprinkle of spice over his consent, “Do whatever you want. You have done already …”

Michael winced internally.

He looked up at his friend and spun the hairbrush in his hand as if it were a pistol.

“Is … Is this okay?” Michael looked at Nico’s bound apart legs, his track pants still snug at his knees, his arms tied above his head, “Is what we’re doing … okay? …”

Nico paused before answering.

He tugged at his wrist restraints and then uncurled the toes of his left foot.

He had given his friend permission, to tie him this way; albeit, not his feet to the bottom corner, that may have been a step too far on Michael’s part, but all in all, Nico had opened the door to a situation that had now led to one as wild as this …

He had no idea he would be tickled. He had no idea what Michael would do, to get him to say the word ‘uncle’.

Tickling, in Nico’s mind, was so far removed from the radar in his brain that he did not expect it to feature in his daily life, let alone in a circumstance like this one.

Feeling Michael first throw his fingers into his underarms, with such force, was a surprise for Nico to say the least. If he had known that was Michael’s intention, he would never of let his friend strap him to the bed in the first place.

Michael had not been himself since Love, Victor had ended.

His acting roles had dried up, he had featured minimally in television shows and hardly in any movies.

Today was the happiest Nico had seen Michael in a long time.

“It’s okay,” Nico smiled, “Come on, what do you wanna try?”

Michael placed the hairbrush down over the carpet.

He coughed into his fist and readied himself to do something he had done many times with guys before, but not with Nico.

The times before were down to a need; a want to taste, to action something overly intimate, to connect with the person writhing naked beneath Michael.

This time, it was a want; a want to increase Nico’s sensitivity, a want to heighten the experience, a want to make things worse for him.

Michael curled his index finger and thumb around Nico’s left big toe, where he journeyed his face towards his sole.

He opened his mouth, closed his eyes, stretched out his tongue and then licked the bottom of Nico’s foot, from his heel all the way up to the tips of his toes.

Nico’s eyes widened as his foot jolted inward, a confused, “—Mnn?—” caught between his throat as Michael saturated his sole with his saliva.

Michael wiped his lips and smiled at Nico.

“What was that for?” Nico asked breathlessly, his toes curling around the thick layer of dribble left by Michael’s tongue.

Michael picked the hairbrush back up with one hand, whilst keeping Nico’s left big toe secured in his other.

“The website said to use baby oil, but I uh, I don’t have any …” He placed the hairbrush over Nico’s left heel, “ … Okay, five minutes. Here we go …”

Being a dancer, Nico had a sensational toe-point; a movement he demonstrated automatically, as the hairbrush arrived over the bottom of his foot, “Michael!—” Nico’s torso thrashed forwards, the bed shifting an inch across the floor, “—Go easy on me, man! I’ve never been tickled like this before!” He warned.

Michael giggled to himself as he felt Nico try to wriggle his foot out of his grasp, “My aim is to drive you nuts, Nico! There’s no way I’m going easy…” he began to rub the hairbrush from side to side, leaving Nico’s heel, where he slowly started to glide the tool up to his arch.

“—What, why!—” Nico threw his head over the pillow where it bounced once, twice, three times, his voice shouting out the word, “—Why! Why! Why!—” after each bounce, his left leg kicking, his body leaping from the bedsheets as Michael continued to rub the brush across his sole, sending electric shocks so severe up and down Nico’s body that he had no choice but to hurtle his face forwards, heave in and shout out the word, “—UNCLE!—”

Both young men found themselves tumbling into another hysteric state as they both found amusement in Nico’s inability to last more than seven seconds.

Nico giggled so hard that he could barely catch his breath, his grin wide and bright, his chortles spluttered and bewildered.

Michael buried his face into the bottom of the bed and chuckled into the mattress, his grip still tight around Nico’s big toe.

“Seriously, Nico?” Michael shuffled closer to Nico’s left foot, “No way, man, we’re going again … You’re not giving up that easily …”

Nico blinked and scowled across his chest as he watched Michael take his left ankle in a secure armlock, “—Michael! I said ‘uncle’, man! Add five minutes onto the next damn thing!” He kicked his leg and yanked at his wrist restraints, his foot now caught beside Michael’s pec, his ankle still pinned to the corner of the bed with rope, “—I, I said ‘uncle’—”, he whined, “—I gave in! Go onto the next one!—”

Nico’s giggles returned almost as quickly as they left, when Michael continued to rub the hairbrush over the wet expanse of his left sole, “—That’s the thing about being tied up,” Michael explained, a grunt leaving his throat as he clenched his teeth and struggled to keep hold of Nico’s kicking foot, “You can’t really do anything!” He began to regret licking so much of his own saliva across Nico’s sole - the harder he rubbed the brush, the harder Nico kicked, the wet expanse causing Michael to lose grip of Nico’s big toe where his foot then pulled out of the armlock, meaning Michael had to resort to snatching hold of the top half of Nico’s foot instead, to try and keep it in place.

Nico resembled a big fish out of water; his body flapped and convulsed, it bounced and it jumped, his foot refused to stay in one position as the brush slid effortlessly across the base of his long, silky smooth toes. He squealed like a girl and he shrieked like he had no choice, Michael’s teasing reminder that he was stuck and there was nothing he could do about it causing him to launch his torso forwards where he grinned hard at Michael and glared into his back.

He could see the determination in Michael’s attempts; the way he grabbed at his foot, the way he tried to pin it in place, the way he kept trying to tuck his ankle back in an armlock - Nico found himself gasping and panting without even realising he was doing so, his laughter strained and alarmed, a panicked, “—No, no, stop! Michael, Michael! Michael!—”, falling out of his mouth as he twisted to the left and then threw himself to the right, the brush rubbing and scrubbing and gliding across the arch of his left sole, “—What the fuck! Michael! Michael! Okay, okay!—” Nico inhaled quickly as Michael paused to pull away some of the bedsheets he had unintentionally gathered around his heel whilst kicking so hard, “—Ohhhhhhh kaaaaaay, Michael, okay …—” Nico moaned, his eyes burning into the ceiling as he viewed these few seconds of pause as a potential end to his time with the brush, “—Okay, oooookay , Michael…—”, but before he knew it, Michael was back with his tool and a now successful attempt at tucking his left foot in a tight armlock again, leaving Nico apprehensive and frustrated as he peered over his chest with a bewildered expression.

Breathlessness and staggered giggles filled the bedroom as the air grew thick and warm, a beat of silence landing between the boys as Nico’s toes curled and he planted his chin against his collar bone, never once leaving the sight taking place at the bottom of the bed.

“… N, no …” Nico could now only provide his words in a destroyed whimper, “… N, no, d, don’t do it, don’t, don’t do it!…”

“No?” Michael kept Nico’s foot in his armlock, the brush teasing its return in the form of a wiggled hover over the soft, creamy white expanse that made up the bottom of Nico’s left foot, “No? Why not, huh, Nico?” Michael spoke in a tormenting, playful tone.

“Be, because—” Nico threw his head against the pillow, “—Because I, I said ‘uncle’! You said you’d stop if I … Michael! Go onto the next thing!—”, he wailed, his foot twitching suddenly as he felt the bristles brush ever so gently across his heel where they left as soon as they landed, a sensation ticklish enough for Nico to jerk his leg and throw his head forwards, “—Michael! Oh my god! Oh my god, Michael!—”, Nico did not have the words to describe how unbearable it felt to have his foot toyed with in this way, a feeling he had never felt before in his life, a feeling he was so undeniably desperate to see the end of.

“—I’m in control—”, Michael reminded, where he actioned another quick scrub of the brush, this time down Nico’s sole, for a second only, “—You’re the one tied up,” he grunted as he felt his own body be thrown forwards by the strength of Nico’s kick.

Nico leaped to the right as Michael suddenly actioned a repetitive, non stop scrub, “—MICHAAAAAAAAGHHHHH!—” he screamed, his body jumping into the air, his weight yanked back down to the bed where he bounced several times in the starfish position, more high pitched, uncontrollable giggles leaving his chest as his foot twisted, flexed and stretched in ways he did not know possible; it was as if the mere thought of the brush against his sole going on for another second was mind blowing in itself, so feeling it go on and on and on and on was a reality that sent Nico into a realm of explosive hysteria where he used all of his muscles in his left leg to kick and pull, twist and yank, his squirming and writhing making Michael work the hardest he had worked so far, by handling such vigour contained within his armlock.

Michael felt exhausted himself, handling such a strong body with so much athletic energy; he knew he would not be able to keep hold of Nico’s ankle like this for much longer, so he decided to finish Nico’s time with the brush with another mini game - a game within a game - he thought within his mind …

“Okay, grrr!” Michael grunted, his body still thrown back and fourth by Nico’s kicks, “Mnn, I’m gonna do one minute, non stop, alright? And then we’re done with this round, okay?” Michael tightened his grip over the brushes handle, “You think you can do it?”

Nico had once again been rendered speechless; his cheeks were red, his hair a mess, his track pants now somewhere around his shins after all the kicking - he had even registered thoughts that he had never registered before, thanks to never being in a situation such as this one - thoughts such as: I wish he’d tickle the other foot, this one’s had enough! or, If I laugh too hard, am I gonna die? the thoughts were momentarily discarded as he responded to Michael’s suggestion in the form of a whiny whimper, “—N, no! Just get it over with, stop it, no!—” Nico could not control his wants or desires, his tone was constantly uncertain, his voice destroyed, his ability to clearly explain what he wanted shattered into thousands of pieces of glass, an issue he had no care to address as soon as he felt Michael scrub the hairbrush from side to side across the arch of his foot.

Nico threw his head back over the pillow in a non stop, aggressive bounce - if an outsider were to view part of his reaction from behind the window they would not be blamed for mistaking him as either a man possessed, or a unwilling patient in a mental institution - he giggled the hardest he had giggled yet, his eyes squeezing shut as his blonde chunks of hair flayed around with every twist of his head - he tried the best he could to count down from sixty to zero, but he lost count at around fifty five, his fists curling into balls, his thigh muscles bulging, his arms pulling at the wrist restraints keeping his bucking body in place.

He could just about take the focus on his armpits, his thighs, his stomach; but having his feet tickled like this, with such an effective tool, was something Nico could not only hardly stand, but it was something he struggled to conceive; it boiled the blood in his body, it made him feel hot and flustered, it expelled laughter, mania and a different level of giggling he had never felt before, from the very depths of his tummy - he felt overjoyed with such a sensation, whilst also acknowledging a dire sense of dread that constantly filled his psyche with a blend of eye watering happiness mixed with an overwhelming desperation. to make whatever this was, stop.

“It’s already been twenty seconds!” Michael reassured his friend, “You’re almost there, Nico!”

Nico spoke his words all at once, with no pause between, a bubble of spit arriving at the corners of his mouth as he glared down at Michael and growled out his response, “—It’sbeenmorethantwentyseconds!—”

“—It hasn’t! I’m watching the clock,” Michael declared, his brown eyes taking in the screen of his iPhone as he waited for a minute to pass - he had only guessed it had been twenty seconds, so maybe Nico was correct, however he still maintained a loyalty in sticking to his proposal, even if he were making up the time passed by as he went along.

Michael felt a line of sweat develop over the top of his lip as he struggled to contain Nico’s foot - his arm had begun to ache from all the brush rubbing, his self awareness kicking in as he watched Nico’s foot twist, point, flex and curl under the brush - it became instantly clear that what he was doing to Nico was insufferable for the twenty eight year old and that fact alone satisfied Michael in ways he could not quite describe.

Michael’s satisfaction was increased further when Nico started to sound broken; the young actor had cried out his name more times in the past hour than he had done all year, he had shouted ‘stop it’ non stop, he had expressed how much he could not take it, how much he could not stand it, but he had not said the word ‘please’, until now.

“—MICHAEL, PLEASE, I’M BEGGING YOU, STOP WITH THE BRUSH!—”, his shout sounded different this time, it was demanding, his tone deep, his call urgent, “—PLEASE, MICHAEL, PLEASE—”

Nico’s attention was torn away from the hyper ticklish sensation taking place over his left foot, where it shot up to his left wrist as he felt it slip through the rope.

He gasped.

He had been squirming and laughing, pulling and tugging, thrashing and jumping, bucking and leaping with such strength that he had not realised how much the loop of rope had made it’s way around the middle of his left hand.

He pulled it free from the restraint effortlessly.

He swung over to his right wrist and began to untie himself, an act that was challenging in itself as Michael continued to scrub at his foot with the brush, his back turned to Nico, where he remained utterly oblivious to Nico’s breathless escape.

Once both wrists were untied, Nico wasted no time in shuffling down the bed, where his desperate fingers clawed at the rope around his right ankle, his grabs and pinches at the knot successful in their attempt to loosen its tightness - within seconds, his right leg was free, allowing him the chance to throw his body over Michael, where he contained him in a tight bear hug.

“—WHO’S IN CONTROL NOW!—”

Michael continued to scrub, his own surprised giggles relentless and strained, causing Nico to still yelp, growl and pant as the plastic bristles persisted in running from left to right over the base of his toes.

Nico reached around Michael and grabbed the brush away from his hands, tearing it from his grasp where he threw it across the bedroom, his hands never hesitating to help move along his escape; even with Michael still tickling his foot with his fingers, Nico dived head first through the hysteria and focused on clawing at the loop of rope around his left ankle, constantly twisted and jolting as he screamed and shrieked, Michael’s fingernails now attacking the depths of his arch.

“I can’t believe you broke free!” Michael spluttered, his own sides now victim to Nico’s hands as Nico started to jab and poke into his friends ribcage, “Alright, alright, I’ll let you go!” Michael squeaked, his hands having no choice but to leave Nico’s foot alone, where his elbows snapped around his torso in an attempt to block off Nico’s digs.

Nico wrapped his arms around Michael and then threw his own body back in a triumphant slam against the mattress, taking Michael with him.

Nico kicked his left leg free of rope, his muscular strength now overwhelming Michael entirely.

Michael had only started working out a few years ago - he was athletic, he showcased brawn, he was by no means weak - but compared to Nico’s decade plus experiences as a trained dancer, a frequent gym goer, an expert in weight lifting, Michael instantly became the lesser skilled captor of the two.

Michael’s back lay flat over Nico’s chest and stomach.

Nico used his long toes and flexible feet to curl around the insides of Michael’s ankles, where he then spread his legs, stretching Michael’s apart as he did so.

Nico snatched hold of Michael’s right wrist and pulled it to the top right corner of the bed.

“—Graaaaaaaaghhh! Grrraghh! Gragggggh!—”

Both boys snarled and growled, like two playful pups rolling around in a garden - their expels of passionate domination were not vicious or nasty, they were determined and insistent - they both showcased a commitment in their goal; for Nico it was to force Michael in the position he had been trapped in, and for Michael it was to break free from Nico’s grasp.

Nico had to use both hands to knot a quick loop around Michael’s right wrist; he was aware it was a rushed try and that Michael might be able to break out of it, but he had to have at least one limb pinned into place.

Nico slid out from under Michael as Michael reached over to his right wrist - before he could even make it half way, Nico grabbed Michael’s left hand and yanked it to the top left corner of the bed.

“Nico, no!” Michael could not contain his giggles as Nico began to tie his left arm above him; he tugged and pulled, but Nico’s strength outweighed Michael’s and within five seconds, Michael lay with his hands bound at either corner of the mattress.

Nico fell to his side as Michael lay panting.

Huff, huff, huff, huff

Michael pressed his lips together as he tried tugging at the rope once again; as the bed creaked, Nico crawled over Michael and calmly took his time in making sure the knot was tight around his left wrist.

“Ow!” Michael winced, “Alright, you got me, Nico …” he clenched his teeth as he slid his heels across the creased sheets beneath his feet, “… Now lemme go, we’re done, alright?” He chuckled, his worried chortles escalating into high pitched giggles as Nico made his way to the bottom of the bed and snatched hold of his right ankle, “Nico! Nico! We’re done, man! You’re free! Play times over, alright? Lemme go, man!”

Nico tucked Michaels ankle around his bicep and chest, his sturdy frame entirely capable of handling Michael’s kicking, the armlock around Michael’s foot exceptionally secure.

“How does it feel to be on the receiving end, huh, Michael?” Nico teased, his index finger trailing gently over Michael’s caramel coloured soft sole.

Michael leaped off the bed and kicked his leg, his long head of hair flaying across the pillow.

He huffed and then lay entirely still, the toes of his right foot curling into a tight, protective scrunch.

“It sucks,” he spoke in a deep and defeated grumble, “I’m sorry, man, alright? You don’t have to get me back … ” he peered over his chest, “… Nico?”

Nico grinned as he looked down at Michael’s toes, their curl panicked and uncertain.

“I know for a fact you cannot stand having your feet touched,” Nico spoke matter of factly, “Now, I’m not as ruthless as you, so I’m not gonna go too hard - Plus? I’m fucking exhausted … So, Michael, I put it to you … If you can last more than one minute without saying that special word … I’ll let you go.”

He peered around his shoulder and cocked an eyebrow.

“Understood?” Nico pressed.

Michael closed his eyes and nodded reluctantly.

Nico licked his index finger.

He placed the very tip of his fingernail against the silky smooth, caramel coloured sole of Michael’s right foot …

He actioned a delicate, every so gentle scratch …

Michael threw his body forwards, his propel taking place in slow motion,

The pillows exploded off the bed,

His eyes bulged open,

His toes stretched into a manic splay,

His wild strands of hair hurtled out into the air,

He opened his mouth, heaved in a huge intake of air and then, without hesitating, he screamed out the word—