#knismesis

Patton giggled and moved even closer in that silly way, complete with hopping and skipping and swinging his arms. Logan only raised an eyebrow at the strange display. The pounding in his head got worse as he tried to make sense of it all.

“If you keep glaring at that book, it’s gonna be sad, y’know. You gotta laugh a little more.”

Logan sighed at the shear illogicality of the statement. “Patton, books are not sentient beings, they are unable to fe-”

He was cut off by Patton dropping down on his lap, cradling his legs and keeping him in place. He frowned at the odd behaviour. While Patton wasn’t a stranger to hugs and physical contact, he always asked for permission before entering one’s personal space. Always, except for- Oh. Oh.

“Patton, no!”

“Patton, yes!”

Hands dove towards Logic’s sides as his own shot down to counter the attack. He managed to grab Patton’s wrists just before they touched his skin and the two struggled for dominance. His face was scrunched up in determination and irritation (at Patton, at the disturbance of his rest, at the impossible pounding in his head-) and he tried to move Patton off his legs. The moral aspect giggled merrily, a sound that was starting to grate on Logan’s ears, and he leaned forward until his head was on Logic’s right shoulder.

Logan’s blood ran cold when he felt the warm, humid breath ghost over the sensitive skin of his neck. He raised his shoulder to deny the other access, but it was too late.

Patton expertly blew a raspberry and Logan was gone. Involuntary laughter fell from his lips as the sensations registered in his brain. The pounding intensified, but was overwhelmed by the vibrations on his skin and the effect that they caused. He arched his back and straightened his legs, pushing his neck into the back cushion of the couch to escape Patton’s attack. It did not work.

Moreover, Patton had managed to free his hands in Logan’s moment of weakness and was now happily skittering them across his sides. Logan squealed and trashed around, now curling in on himself. Patton’s giggles mingled with his own and his headache seemed both present and absent at the same time. 

“You need to laugh more, Lo!” Morality giggled merrily. “Laughing’s healthy!”

Not like this! Logan wanted to reply, but he was unable to even form words inbetween his laughter. His body was out of his own control, and even more so when Patton’s fingers travelled up to his armpits. He knew he would regret moving around so wildly, but his body simply would not listen to him.

It twisted and turned to escape the other’s grasp, and he managed to knock him off balance. Logan’s aching head registered the change too slowly and when he finally assessed the new situation (they had fallen on the ground, his torso was on top of Patton’s, Patton was groaning and giggling at the same time), he did not have enough time to get away.

Patton squeezed his tummy as soon as Logan moved to get up, and the logical aspect was once again reduced to a laughing mess. “STOHOHOHOPFF! PFFLEA-HI-HI-HI-HIIISE!” he managed to yell. His eyes were squeezed shut and he felt a tear trickling down his cheek. Whether it was from the tickles or the headache, he didn’t know. The gargalesis was too overwhelming to think straight.

“Nope!” Patton teased, reversing their positions so that he was the one on top. “I’ve been missing out on your giggles, so I wanna hear tons of them now!”

Logan trashed around to get away from his assailant, but abruptly stopped when his head collided with the leg of the couch in a not-so-soft way. His migraine intensified to levels high enough to momentarily overwhelm the sensations of gargalesis. 

“Stop! Stop! Stop, I mean it!” he yelled loudly, his voice a much lower pitch than before. Patton immediately stilled and retracted his hands, allowing Logan to sit up and grab his head in agony.

“Are you okay?” The question was quiet and laced with concern.

“No.”

He probably could have used more consideration in this situation, but he didn’t care. Thinking about things made his headache worse and so he didn’t. He stopped thinking about things and instead tried (and failed) to will the pain away. Once he deemed it bearable enough he raised himself from his position on the floor, feeling a hesitant hand on his elbow to steady him. 

“I’m going to lay down for a second.”

He shook the hand off and exited the room without sparing another glance at Patton, pressing a hand against his forehead the entire time.

Okay, so he definitely could have used more consideration. Patton was someone who really took these things to heart and he would probably feel bad and guilty all day. But… but so what? Logan had been content with his book and if Patton hadn’t started tickling him, his afternoon wouldn’t have been ruined. What’s so wrong about having him reflect on his actions for a bit?

He closed the door behind him and flopped down on his bed, letting out a groan when the pounding aggravated at the movement. He pressed his face into his pillow to shield his closed eyes from the light in his room - as strangely as that might sound - but was forced to move soon after because it was hard to breath. He shifted positions a couple of times, but nothing he did could lighten the ache. The pain wasn’t overwhelmingly unbearable, but it went on and on and on and it made him feel so tired. It soon got to the point where he was willing to shut down his conscious mind if that would give him some relief.

The pounding was insistent enough for him to not notice the soft knocks on his door, but Patton’s voice - soft, sad, careful, concerned - managed to get through to him. “Logan? May I come in?”

Logan grunted out an affirmative. Yes, he might be miserable and sometimes petty, but he wasn’t heartless. He had no idea how much time had passed, but he figured Patton had redeemed himself by now.

The paternal trait opened the door with nearly no sound and tiptoed closer. Logan appreciated the effort to be quiet, at the very least. Now that his irritation had subsided - mainly because it seemed to aggravate his aching head - he decided he would hear Patton out, give him the OK and then continue to suffer in silence until he would be able to function again.

“I’m really sorry, Logan,” Patton said quietly (so quietly it was almost a whisper, but not quite) as he stood next to the bed. “I should have paid more attention to how you were feeling.”

Logan hummed, keeping his eyes closed. He didn’t deny the other’s words, but hopefully he adequately conveyed that he was no longer angry.

“I, eh...” Patton started unsurely and only continued when Logan opened his eyes to look at him. “I brought something that may help.” He held up his hand and Logan took a look at... a broken whisk? 

The object certainly looked like the balloon whisk that was in the kitchen, but much bigger than normal. The metal loops that made up the most important part of the cooking utensil seemed to be broken in the middle. He strained his eyes to look at it more clearly, despite the effects it had on his migraine. His curiosity had been piqued and he wanted to examine the curious device. Despite his personal description, the object seemed to be designed this way instead of broken. So, what could it-

A sharp pain flashed behind his eyelids and he groaned, pressing a hand against his forehead as he used the other to push himself up. “What is it?” he asked.

“It’s Happy’s Head Trip,” Patton beamed, his excitement making his voice a little louder. Logan was ready to send both him and his device away after hearing the name, but Patton continued before he could. “It’s to massage your scalp. It tickles and makes your headache go away.”

Logan froze. “How do I know this is not just an excuse for you to tickle me again?” he asked sternly, managing to keep a frown on his face despite the extra ache it caused.

Patton pouted and made an unhappy sound. “I won’t do that! I really just want to help you. It’s no fun tickling you if you don’t like it, anyways.” Realizing he might be pushing his current boundaries, he backtracked a little. “Of course, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. But I assure you,” he raised the device and gave a smile that was apologetic with just a dash of mischief, “it’s a calculated whisk.”

Logan groaned again, for a different reason this time. “Might as well try it,” he grumbled. Patton was unlikely to prank him now, and the device (he refused to call it by that ridiculous name) might actually be helpful. “How do we go about it?”

“You can sit on the bed. Or on a chair. Wherever you feel most comfortable,” Patton smiled. Logan thought for a moment and then moved towards his desk chair. At Patton’s advice, he removed his glasses and put them on his desk, closing his eyes as he leaned back.

He knew exactly when Patton lowered the device onto his scalp because suddenly thousands of his nerves seemed like they were on fire. He tensed up immediately, feeling the sensations even in his toes. “Patton.” He meant to sound warning, but it sounded more like a whine. His cheeks heated up, but luckily the other didn’t comment on it.

“It’ll get better soon, I promise! Just try to relax.”

And so he did. Try, at least. But every time the beads at the end of the wires travelled even a millimetre across his scalp, they sent electric currents through his body that made his fingers and toes curl. After a full minute, when Logan was about to tell Patton to stop because he couldn’t relax after all and tickling just wasn’t for him and- oh.

It was like the effects of the device finally dulled. Logan was able to slowly let go of the tension in his body and lean back. Patton’s hand, the one that was not occupied with moving the scalp massager up and down, landed on his shoulder. His thumb began to move in slow circles between his shoulder and his neck and Logan sighed contently.

Time seemed to stand still. Patton didn’t talk, he just quietly moved the massager up and down, rotating it regularly. Logan nearly drifted off, but the soft sensations of knismesis kept his consciousness grounded.

After who knows how long, Happy’s Head Trip regained its initial effect. The corners of Logan’s mouth twitched upwards when the tickling feeling once again travelled through his entire body. He willed his shoulders to relax, but the tantalizing currents down his spine soon became too much. He leaned forward with a quiet giggle, fully escaping Patton’s tickly grasp.

The moral aspect looked confused, but not put off. With a small smile, he lowered the massager. “Are we stopping?” he asked rhetorically. “How are you feeling?”

Logan took a second to compose himself and shifted his focus inward. How did he feel? “I... I feel good, actually,” he replied slowly, not familiar with the comfortably drowsy feeling he was currently experiencing. His headache was almost gone entirely and he felt relaxed.

“You look kinda sleepy, teach.” Patton set the device down on the desk as Logan reached for his glasses. “Why don’t you take a quick nap and I’ll call you down when dinner is done?”

Logan opened his mouth to argue. Taking a nap at this time of day would surely throw off his sleep schedule for the upcoming night and surely there were other, more productive things he could do with his time? But a nap... “That sounds nice,” he conceded with a small blush.

“That’s the spirit!” Patton cheered as he headed towards the door. Logan followed, because it was only polite he’d see his guest out, wasn’t it? And besides... Patton had really helped him this time around.

“Patton?”

“Hmm?” Patton turned just outside his room, one eyebrow quirked up in wonder.

“I really must express my gratitude to you. This afternoon would have been much less enjoyable if it hadn’t been for your... intervention. Thank you.”

“I’m glad to help, Logan,” Morality beamed. “It was the yeast I could do.”

The door closed in his face.