Josh and Aaron

By aJonymous

 

Josh: OK I admit I’m never likely to be the spokesperson for mature behavior in adolescence. People (read my parents) just expect too much though. I’m in the top one third of all my classes at school, yet they point out I could be duxing it if I applied myself properly. I can play guitar by ear and they tell me I should be learning to read music and sitting board exams instead. And now the last straw, as far as I’m concerned. This Friday is a sports carnival, which senior year students like me are excused from attending. Thursday (tomorrow) is a pupil free day, not to mention my 18th birthday. There’s some ‘quaint’ family thing for my birthday planned by my control freak mother for this Saturday. I mean my own celebration plans didn’t even clash dates with hers and she and Dad still have the gall to veto it. All I was planning was me and some friends would duck across into Maryland Thursday night and get wasted at a friend’s cousin’s Frat house, then crawl back to good old Penn next day. TOTALLY legal in that state, so long as I’m 18 and not doing it in public. Though when Mom found out you’d think it was an armed hold up I was planning. So she manages to sink those plans with a half dozen stern phone calls to all my closest friends’ parents.

I pretty much stormed off into my room, packed what I figured I needed to start a new life, whatever would fit in a small backpack anyway, and let myself out the window and down the favourite tree of my childhood at around eleven pm when the house had gone quiet.

The only bus leaving any time soon when I got to Greyhound was headed for New York City. ‘Great,’ I figure – they’ll never find me there.

 

Aaron: I guess I should be grateful that the little idiot at least had recovered enough good sense to come to my door. In my shoebox rented apartment’s thin walls, even the half hearted few knocks he’d plucked up the courage to make carried well enough to wake me. It was nowhere near sunrise. I got up and checked the peephole to see my teen brother Josh at the door wearing his best timid-but-defiant look. He held up his hand – wavering, trying to decide whether to knock again.

“Oh thank fuck, I got the right number this time,” was his greeting when I opened up.

I could read all the signs before I even had to ask for an explanation. We’re under three years apart and are real similar in appearance and mannerisms. So not much he said really surprised me. Fortunately I don’t have so much of Josh’s impulsive streak. If I did I’d have been reading him the riot act as soon as he confirmed he’d run away.

Instead I heard him out. Then, after hearing his side of every injustice our parents could possibly be implicated in, I let out a sigh and said “OK, well you’ve outlined a problem, but I’m willing to guess it’s make-it-up-as-you-go as far as any solution is concerned. Please promise me, right now, that you’ll stay here at least long enough to think through your options.”

I was one of the best around at penetrating ‘Fortress Josh’ when he’d become defiant. My plea had found the right entry point, and he said “OK” before taking my cue and hugging me tighter than I could remember us embracing since back when we were kids.

Josh: My brother is awesome. How he gets on so well with our parents always baffles me. He did promise for the time being not to let on to them where I was. Aaron made his couch as comfortable as he could and I crashed out asleep there for three or four hours until I hear him moving around in his kitchen. I open my eyes, discovering it’s now 8.30.

“Sorry to wake you, but there’s something important I forgot to say to you earlier.”

He sits on the edge of the couch that I’m still lying on under a quilt. ‘Oh great,’ I think to myself, ‘the lecture at last arrives.’

“Happy birthday dude,” Aaron says, beaming at me.

“Wow, I’d forgotten in the turmoil of the last 12 hours – I’m now eighteen! Thanks Aaron,” I reply.

“The big eighteen yeah – but still my kid brother in at least one respect,” Aaron says. With that he pins me under the bed linen and starts tickling my upper body. I burst into laughter and try to fight him off, but he has me trapped.

“HAHAHA STOHAHAPP AARON HAHAHAHAHA, GET HAHAHAHA OFF HAHAHAHAAA…”

Aaron: I’d tickled him every birthday since he turned seven. And plenty of other times besides. Sometimes it was the best way to get around that erratic temper. This morning it was just in fun. But I let him have it for a good couple of minutes, at least until he was freely blurting out ‘please’, after being reminded of our standing surrender rules of tickle combat.

While he was having some breakfast and I was getting ready to go off to college for the day’s classes I reminded him of one of the things he needed to be thinking about during his stay here – money.

“In a sense dude, you’re still even here living under a roof that Mom and Dad contribute to financially. Covering every living expense on your own is something I sure haven’t had to deal with yet. Even partly funding myself is pretty tough.”

He started to put up his defensive barriers almost at once, so I just said “OK, I’m not trying to make out it’s impossible, but at least spend a little time today researching the sort of work you might get if you don’t complete your finals”.

I left it at that, telling Josh I’d leave my computer on for him to use the internet so he could do as I’d suggested. He gave me a sullen nod. Damn he could be stubborn sometimes! What he really needed was a tough day’s work, to see that this little adventure of his would not be all plain sailing.

Josh: I hate it when Aaron starts sounding like Mom or Dad, because I can’t stay annoyed with him nearly as easily. About an hour after he’d left for college I grudgingly go to his computer like he suggested, to see about what I am going to do for income. There’s an icon showing he has received a new email message. It’s not like I deliberately set out to read Aaron’s mail. I just sort of flick it open. The email is from Lorraine at So Real Modelling Agency:

“Hi Aaron,

I know I’m always springing these last minute modelling jobs on you, but all the recent clients have been so pleased with your work. If you are recovered from the physical demands of Monday’s shoot with Silvercherry and have time around your classes, there is some work available with a brand new client today – the same routine as Monday but just using male models in this case. They have one guy confirmed, but two others fell through and they need to find at least one model to achieve the shoot. The pay is $300 for a 40 minute shoot and if you’re available I can cut and paste all the paperwork from Monday’s contract so you’d only have to turn up at 3.00 and be done with by 4.00 or there abouts. Being last minute organization and first time clients, they’d just pay you in cash rather than set up an invoice.”

I was aware that Aaron did occasional modelling work to help pay the bills. He never talked much about it, but I figure how hard could it be? And 300 bucks cash for a shoot – that’s nothing to sneeze at! Things churn over in my head. New client – so they probably couldn’t tell me and Aaron apart just from the pics that Lorraine lady might send in advance. And after all Aaron said he’d be at college til around 4.00. Why not just take his place and get the easy money?

Posing as Aaron, I email Lorraine back saying sure I’d like the job. I mention I’m away from the phone now but if she could leave a confirming message and attendance details on the answer machine I’d be calling by the apartment middle of the day and would organize the rest of my day around the work.

Just 15 minutes later the phone rings. I let it go to message. Damn!! It’s Mom reminding Aaron to phone me for my birthday tonight. They still don’t exactly know I’m absent you see, as I kind of left a note saying I’d gotten up early to go train for Friday’s sports carnival, having decided to compete.

Then a couple more minutes of tense waiting later, Lorraine’s call comes through giving the details of where to go for this job. It’s only a 12 minute subway ride away. Wipe phone message, delete received and sent emails. With an ounce of luck Aaron won’t find out any time soon. And if I impress them today, surely I could get plenty of this cosy work too.

Aaron: I had lunch kind of late and then went to check my emails in the student center. There was a kind of baffling reply from Lorraine at my model agency:

“You’re a life saver. I’ve phoned through the job details to your answer machine like you asked, but since I’m a paperwork junky here’s the official copy attached. For the record it’s better to have you getting in writing that we’ve advised the client of your code word to have them stop tickling you, in case they had any thoughts of trying to get around that one. So I confirm they know that if you use the word ‘Mystic’ they will pause the shoot and stop tickling you.”

I skimmed to the end, then looked at the message history – the last reply to Lorraine from my email address, then her first message at the start. At first I was totally pissed off at Josh. Then I thought: “maybe this is exactly the tough day’s work he needs for his dose of reality”.

I immediately phoned up the contact number of the place where Lorraine had sent Josh, to explain that I could offer another model for that shoot if they still wanted to use three guys.

Josh: Hmm, more than a little weird, but I how can I back out now? The camera dude is showing me how I’m going to be tied onto this kind of massage table. I didn’t even really read all the paper work they’d had me put my brother’s signature on. I was focusing too much on forging it properly. The only thing that’s stopping me from faking a stomach bug and fleeing is that the guy said outright he was aware of my conditions on there being no pain or erotic touching, to which I nodded blankly. Okay – so that seems cool. It must be just like acting then, with me tied and the other model being all sort of tough guy. And if Aaron does it, how can it be so bad right?

Word comes through that they have located an extra guy to bring it up to three models, but that since he’s only just on his way over he’s now down for the second scene, while this guy Jeff is doing the first. I’m in both by the sounds of it.

I shake hands with my first co-star Jeff – a guy about Aaron’s age who kind of looks like a young Keanu Reeves. That’ll make the production look cozy in an early 90s celeb kind of way, since I look kind of like River Phoenix (Aaron does too). Jeff confirms he has the “code word” memorized, which freaks me out a little but I continue to act as though I understand. Then I’m asked to strip down to my boxers and get up on the table. They fasten straps around my wrists and ankles then attach these to chains and apply tension with some kind of winch until I’m completely stretched out and can’t move at all. Then the bright filming lights go on and they tell me and Jeff we’re set to go.

I hear the Camera dude’s next words, but they take a few seconds to sink in: “This is scene one of Aaron – Tickle Tortured by Jeff; and….action”.

Oh my god. What the fuck! People make tickling videos? My fucking brother makes tickling videos?! FUCKING HELL!! I’M IN A TICKLING VIDEO!!!!

Jeff is grinning, saying something to me and coming closer, but I’m too freaked out to take it in. I’m struggling like mad in these straps. They won’t fucking budge. Now the guy is right near me. Oh shit I can see his fingers. And I can hear – laughter. It’s me! I’m laughing like a pathetic little kid and he hasn’t fucking touched me yet.

I turn my gaze with increasing panic to the camera dude, who’s giving me the thumbs up for, I guess, being so out of control already. Then Jeff’s fingers are suddenly wriggling their way up my sides and I let loose with a gale of laughter, staring bug eyed straight down the lens of his fucking camera.

Oh no, how can this be happening? I’m not meant to be here. It’s unbearable and I’m begging for mercy but this dude is just relentless!

“STOHAHAAAP!! HAHAHAHA THERE’S HAHAHAHA BEEN A HAHAHAHA MISTAKE HAHAHAHAHAA,” I yell through my laughter.

Aaron: They were a little surprised when I arrived at how much I look like their star ticklee. I explained we’re brothers and if possible I’d like to let that aspect show up in our interactions as I tickle him. They thought that sounded highly entertaining and readily agreed.

I looked at the video monitor to watch Josh in absolute total hysterics at the hands of the dude who was at present tickling his feet. My poor little bro was making unintelligible half-words through his desperate laughter. That told me he must be a fair way into his torture as Josh tends to lose his coherent speech ability over time in a merciless tickling session. At least it was now kind of immaterial that he didn’t know the safe word.

Josh: I’m going crazy with laughter. He won’t leave my feet alone and it tickles soooooo bad. God it has to be over soon. I’m trying to scream for help. It comes out for a split second but then my laughing just swallows it up or steals the required breath. Oh please somebody help me, this is TORTURE!!!

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA NO HAHAHAHAHA PLE HEHEHAHAHAHAHA….”

I don’t know how long it’s been but they’ve stopped at last and I’m just lying here panting and trying to think straight enough to get myself out of any more of this torture. I’m on my own at this second. Jeff and the camera dude congratulated me on my stamina and went out, promising to bring me a drink.

Camera dude brings me some water and I take several sips, hoping to find my speaking voice intact any moment to demand (or even beg) my freedom.

I’ve just about thought of something half convincing to say when suddenly Aaron just walks in. Man, I’ve never felt so grateful to be busted. He’ll get me out of here. Wait – why is he shirtless?

Aaron: His eyes lit up with hope as I walked in. “Oh god man you have to explain to them and get me out of here,” was his frantic greeting.

I replied “Oh don’t worry I’ve explained things and it’s all sorted Josh.”

“So…..what – you have to take over from me for the second half?” he asked, looking with hopeful confusion at my bare-chested state.

“No, I take over from Jeff, for the second half.”

My normally ultra sharp brother was still a little out of it from his 20 minute tickling ordeal. So it took a full couple of seconds for him to realize what that meant. “What?! No c’mon you can’t Aaron. You know how much I hate it.”

As I had suggested, Brad the camera guy was already shooting, to capture for dramatic effect the dynamic that was unfolding in the lead up to me putting Josh through tickle hell. They couldn’t have paid seasoned actors to give the performances that they were getting on camera now.

“I left you this morning with the task of researching the kind of work you might have qualifications for. And you hit the jackpot – getting tickled til you’re delirious is one of your many untapped talents Josh.”

“NO AARON!! Get me out of this!!!” he demanded, with that defiant face I knew so well.

I walked right up to his helpless body and let my hands make a slow descent from eighteen inches above his armpits. Josh started struggling like mad in his restraints, knowing what was coming.

“Aaron haha you bastard! I’m haha haha serious,” he babbled, as even the mere threat of my pending pit tickling sapped away his self control.

“Oh you sound it too,” I responded.

“I’ll haha tell MOM hahahaha c’mon!!! hahaha”

“Is that the best you can do? You’ll tell Mom? This from the newly independent grown-up Josh who can get by just fine on his own? No – actually Josh you’re going to tell me …and our loyal viewers out in video land….all the reasons that running away was a mistake. When I think you’ve covered all of them, I just might stop tickling you.”

“NO NO YOU HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA……” Josh was at once like hysterically laughing putty in my hands, as I started working over his hyper ticklish pits with my seasoned older bro tickle skills.

Josh: I thought I’d had it bad with that Jeff guy. Oh my god Aaron knows the exact intensity to set me off. I’ve no idea how many times I’ve been his tickling victim over the years, but I know I’ve never been this defenseless. Having my armpits so wide open from the restraints seems to make them off-the-scale in ticklishness. I’m furious at him. I’m outraged at him! Who am I kidding, I can’t even remember what fury and outrage feel like with his fingers running across my armpits making me laugh my ass off!

“AARON PLEHEHEHEHEEEEZEHAHAHAHAHAA,” I’m bellowing as he grins back down at me.

“What’s that Josh”, he’s saying, “you’ve thought of the first reason? Why let us hear it then.”

Oh fuck he means it – I have to come up with something or I’m done for.

“Because hahahahaha I haven’t hahahahaha finished hahahaha high school hahahahaha…”

“Indeed,” he says. Then as if to show me I’ve done good, he moves his tickling to my stomach.

“HAHAHA C’MON HAAHAHAHAHA STOP AARON HAHAHAA IT TICKLES!!”

I can feel his fingers shifting their intensity of touch every couple of seconds, between wriggling across the tight ticklish skin of my tummy and lightly prodding to stimulate the muscles of my abs. He’s totally wrecking me in this spot too.

Aaron: I must say it was nice having him all tied up for once. I could put all my effort into making the tickling totally Josh-breaking. He’s gotten more muscular too since I last saw him up close like this – the kid has the makings of some solid abs. All the better for tickling his stomach, as I was engrossed in.

I prompted him to continue his list of reflective critique.

“HAHAHAHA I can’t hahaha concentrate hahaha.”

“Sure you can, it’s not rocket science,” I replied.

“Give me hahahaha some clues hahahaha PLEHEHEHEHEEZE AARON HAHAHA.”

“Ok,” I responded, keeping my fingers dancing around his abs. “Something to do with the level of planning that went into your actions.”

“HAHAHAHA OK HAHAHA I ADMIT IT HAHAHAHA I didn’t HAHAHAHA PLAN HAHAHAHA EVERYTHIHIHIHIHIING HAHAAAA.”

“Didn’t plan squat might be more accurate,” I replied.

I started a slow tickling migration along his sides, beginning at the hip bones with my fingers probing his ticklish flesh. “Ok next clue – where could your talents for sneaking off unnoticed have been better directed?”

That one confused him, but I was in no hurry to clarify as I was enjoying his fits of laughter as my wriggling fingers glided their way along his sides toward his rib cage.

“HAHAHAHAA C”MON HAHAHAHA MAN PLEHEHEEEEZEHAHAHAHAA”

“I mean, bro, instead of sneaking off to a new life, where else might you have been able to go unbeknownst to our parents?”

“HAHAHAHA drinking in hahahaha Maryland HAHAHAHA,” he offered.

“Exactly! – you had the makings of a cool plan, but, after just one setback, traded it for this chaos you’re now in.” My fingers had ascended onto the well-defined topography of Josh’s ribs and he was squirming for all he was worth as I stroked and prodded my way through every dip and furrow.

“OK HAHAHAHA YOU’RE RIGHT HAHAHAHA NOW STOP HAHAHAHAAA….”

Josh: To my surprise and relief he does stop tickling my ribs. The relief is only momentary as he’s heading down the end of the torture table to my feet.

“Aaron c’mon don’t! I can’t laugh any more or I’ll fucking DIE!,” I protest. I carry this memory from when we were kids that sometimes he would just play around with my feet without making it too ticklish for me. If only he’d take pity and do that now. OH SHIT he’s got a brush! I’m laughing as soon as he grabs hold of my left foot to flex it back for the brush to do its work.

Then the bristles are scraping their way along the length of my foot, with their hundreds of individual sensations. I’m thudding my head against the padded table and lost in my world of ticklish laughter.

I’m still begging but it’s reached the point where my speech ability has taken a holiday and the words are too slurred even for me to understand myself for the most part.

Every couple of minutes, except to me it’s like every eternity of ticklish laughter, he changes between my feet and I manage to get a couple of feeble pleas for release in the moments of change over.

I’m losing track of reality. I must have been in a daze for a minute when he last paused because now I’m laughing to the sensation of two feathers being sawed between my toes. My laughter sounds like I’m a kid – all high pitched and unrelenting.

Aaron: He’s nearly through his ordeal and the production staff seem ecstatic to have such hard core ticklish laughter in their latest video.

I cease the feathering between Josh’s toes and just hold his feet in my hands for a minute, making sporadic squeezes, as he starts to tune back in to reality and shake off the lingering laughter.

“So Josh are you with us again?”

“ahhhh hehehe ahhh yeah.”

“And just to recap, what have we learned today?” His gaze shows the first sign of turning cold, so I run two fingers through his right arch a few times.

“HAHA ok hehe we learned that I messed up good,” Josh responded.

“I wouldn’t be as scathing as that man. How about we agree that we’ve demonstrated the concept of ‘look before you leap’?” As I said this I gave both feet a teasing tickle.

“HAHAA oh jeez HAHAHA we sure did HAHAHAHA.”

“And that’s a wrap, well done everybody!” Brad the camera dude announced.

As I undid the restraints, I bent down so only Josh could hear me and said “I was thinking, once we’ve alerted Mom and Dad that you’re spending the night with me, we could blow some of today’s modelling dosh on a night on the town.”

Josh: I seriously can’t stay mad with Aaron. Maybe it’s because he’s tickled me since the year dot. But probably it’s because he’s always looking out for me, even when I’m not.

Mom and Dad were decidedly unimpressed when I phoned to tell them I was in NYC with Aaron. But he talked them around eventually and now I’m getting changed into some of his dressy clothes and we’re set to see in my eighteenth birthday with extravagance, free spirit, and – since I’m so well practiced – lots of laughs.